


The White Album

by cgner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgner/pseuds/cgner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James poses as an advice charm in Lily’s diary. He’s really got to start thinking through his shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Julia

“I need you to give this to Lily,” James told Remus, holding out a small but thick diary in his hand. He’d chosen it in part for its color, a red somewhere between Gryffindor maroon and Lily’s hair that probably had some poncy name that James wasn’t aware of.

Remus took the diary from him, furrowing his brow. “Did she lose it?”

“No,” James said, as if it were obvious. He sat down on Remus’ neatly-made bed and cast a brief look at the dormitory door to check that Peter was well on his way to breakfast. “She’s lost her parents.”

“Yes,” Remus said slowly. “She has. And how is this relevant?”

“Because she needs to, you know, get her feelings out, yeah?”

Remus stared, still confused, at the book in his hand.

“Look, Moony, I thought about what you said.”

“To which conversation are you referring? I hope not the one where we talked about communicating clearly.”

“No, I’m referring to the time we talked about Lily. Obviously.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, I’m afraid. For someone who doesn’t talk _to_ her all that much, you have an awful lot to say _about_ her.”

James had to admit, he had a point. “I’m referring to the time you said that if I want her to like me I should get to know her.”

Remus’ half-curious, half-perturbed expression changed quickly to one of sharp disapproval. “James Potter, are you planning to steal the diary back after she writes her most intimate thoughts in it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That would be an awful invasion of privacy.”

Remus inspected the diary’s blank pages. “I’ll give this to Lily if you promise not to read it.”

“I’d have to get hold of it first.”

“One, that’s not encouraging me to go along with this, and two, we both know that’s not an insurmountable barrier for you.”

“I promise, once she has that diary, I will not touch it or cast spells on it or anything.”

“And you won’t get someone else to do it for you?”

“No.” James smiled brightly. “I’m just doing what you told me.”

“But if you’re not planning to read it, how does this help you get to know her?”

“I know she’s sad and this will help. Isn’t that knowing her?”

“I suppose, but anyone could have guessed that she was sad. You’ll have to work harder than that to win her affections.”

“Well, I have to start somewhere, don’t I? And no one else has given her a diary.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Intuition.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Stupid question. You checked.”

“Well, yes, but if she had one I still wouldn’t have read it.” Probably, James mentally added.

“James Potter, do you swear that this isn’t some harebrained scheme?”

“I swear that this isn’t some harebrained scheme.” And it wasn’t – it was brilliant. “I bought this in a shop. It has some advice charms.” When Remus raised his eyebrows, James added pointedly, “I think I’ve proven my trustworthiness and responsibility lately.”

“Your rationality has always had an enormous blind spot when it comes to Lily Evans, but fine. This seems well-intentioned. _Seems_. If I find out this is some scheme—”

“Can we use shenanigans instead? That’s a much better word.”

“Fine. If I find out this is some—see, shenanigans doesn’t fit there.”

“If I find out this is some shenaniganery? No, you’re right. Use scheme. For now.”

“If I find out this is some scheme, I’ll….” Remus faltered, then grinned evilly. “I’ll turn you into a goat.”

“You wouldn’t! That punishment is reserved for the lowest of the low. Like Terry Heaney or that bloke who stole Lily’s shoes. Oh wait, that was also Terry Heaney. Excuse me, I need to go turn him into a goat.”

“And here I thought you were being more responsible.”

“I am being responsible. He’s a public menace and he must be stopped.”

“You go get another detention. I’ll try to get Lily this diary. It is a nice thought, really.”

“Yes, it certainly is.”

Smiling faintly, Remus tucked the diary into his satchel and followed James down to the Great Hall.

“How was Transfiguration yesterday?” Peter asked as they approached.

James sank into a chair and grabbed a sausage with his hand.

Remus grimaced at James’ lack of decorum and set his satchel on the floor.

“Come on, Moony,” James said around a mouthful of sausage. “Anything. Any tidbit of information would be greatly appreciated by us, your very best mates who have done so very much for you.”

“My record of detentions would speak to everything you’ve done for me, it’s true. But I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I shan’t.” Remus sat next to Peter and across from James. The fourth seat remained empty, as it had for nearly a month. “I’m just grateful all the professors are being so accommodating. Binns, as usual, is the only one who doesn’t remember.”

“Five Sickles he doesn’t show up for you today,” James said, not expecting either of them to take the bet.

“If only,” Remus said, adding a fried tomato to his plate. “That would be quite the cap to term.”

“What are we going to do for Polish Pirate Poker?” Peter asked, leaning forward.

James suppressed a scowl. Peter only cared because he was close to taking another title.

“We can’t just leave it and start over next year,” Peter continued. “The rules say we have to finish this year. I checked.”

“I don’t think we have much choice except to hope things right themselves over the summer.” Remus sighed. “We can have the final Supraround on September first and start the next season on Saturday as usual.”

James got distracted for a moment when he spotted Isobel Marks glaring daggers at him from the Hufflepuff table. He pretended that she was glaring at Peter for stealing all the sausages. He mentally rejoined the conversation when Peter poked his hand with an eggy fork.

“Sorry?” said James.

“I asked whether our plan to postpone the final Supraround was amenable to you,” Remus said.

“Yeah, all right,” James said absently.

Trying not to be obvious, he snuck a look at Sirius, who was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, alone and picking at a piece of toast.

Remus must have picked up on James’ train of thought, or at least his line of sight.

“He’s not ready to listen,” Remus said. “I thought the other day… but he walked away before I could say anything.”

James didn’t have a reply, so he shoved an entire boiled egg in his mouth to avoid the conversation.

\--

That evening, lacking better alternatives and desperate to keep his mind occupied, James joined Remus and Peter in the common room to revise for their Charms exam.

“You could have taken this exam early, you know,” James told Remus.

“Professor Flitwick offered,” Remus said. He rubbed an eye with his palm and yawned, all without looking up from his notes. “I declined.”

“Oh.”

James fidgeted in his chair and tried to twirl his quill around his thumb. He wished Sirius were there to talk to. Remus and Peter actually revised thoroughly, something James didn’t think he was physically capable of doing.

“Learning anything interesting?” he asked Peter.

“No,” Peter said, biting his thumbnail. With his other hand, he flipped back a few pages in the textbook to search for something. “I forgot we covered some of these subtypes of Conjuring.”

“Right,” said James.

He tapped his foot out to the beat of Celestina Warbeck’s latest song.

“Peter, I left some of my notes on water Conjuring on top of my trunk. They’re yours if you get them.”

Peter perked up. “Is that from the day I had the flu?”

“Yes,” James lied.

“I’ll be right back.”

Peter left his textbook open and raced up the dormitory stairs. When was gone, Remus shot James a quick look of disapproval.

“Did you deliver my gift to Lily?” James asked, feigning nonchalance.

“I don’t intend to give it to her,” said Remus, going back to his notes.

“But you said you would. A Marauder doesn’t go back on his word, Moony.”

“I decided to give it to Emily to give to Lily instead.”

“Oh.”

“Quite.”

“That probably is a better idea,” James said. “Then she won’t think it came from me.”

Remus turned a page. “Precisely.”

After a moment, James asked, “D’you know if she’s given it to Lily?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, James. I didn’t cast a tracking charm on it.”

“Right.”

James anxiously looked over at Emily Wood and Lily sitting by the fire. They were speaking in low voices and appeared to be having a very serious discussion. He hoped his charms on the diary had worked, particularly the ones that hid what the diary actually did. At least if they didn’t, he assumed he’d know straight away. If Lily discovered the true purpose of the diary, she would very probably try to castrate him sooner rather than later.

\--

It wasn’t until the following day, after acing his Charms exam and walking a peaky-looking Remus to the Hospital Wing, that James could confirm that Lily had indeed received the diary. While he and Peter lounged by the lake, James catching and releasing his snitch and Peter biting his nails over their Muggle Studies exam, James felt his ring tighten slightly around his finger.

Lily was holding the diary.

He brought his hand out from under his head, where it had been acting as a pillow as he lay sprawled out in the grass, and examined the golden family crest on his right middle finger. He wondered what she was writing, if anything.

He only lasted another half hour of Peter’s inane questions before making up an excuse and hurrying off to the Tower. Along the way, he felt his ring return to normal. Ensconced by his bed curtains, he pulled out a diary from beneath his mattress, one identical to the diary he’d got passed on to Lily. On the first page he found a copy of what she’d written.

_So, this is a diary. Bit of an odd present from Emily. What do you write in a diary? I’ve never had one before. Should I write about my day? There’s nothing exciting there. Writing essays, wishing Emily and Robert wouldn’t snog in front of me, missing my parents. Mostly that last one. I received an owl from Barry the solicitor this morning. Don’t want to get into it, but my sister is a complete cow._

_Honestly, what do people write in diaries? I can’t imagine that years from now I’ll look back and fondly reread my every last thought. “Ate toast for breakfast.” “Trounced Emily at Transfiguring eye color while revising for exams.” How banal._

_Emily said this diary has advice charms. Maybe this one is broken._

James sat looking at the page for a few minutes. It wasn’t much for a first entry, but that was to be expected, really, if she’d never kept one before. After thinking for another moment, he picked up his self-inking quill to write back.

_Emily must not have explained this properly to you. I am your advice charm! Did you recently lose your parents? I’m very sorry to hear that. Have you talked to Emily about how you’re feeling? She sounds like a good friend._

That was safe, generic advice. A good start, he thought. He spelled his copy of her diary shut with a password that no one but his parents would guess, cast a camouflaging charm on it, and tucked it back under his mattress.

This was probably one of his more unusual ideas, pretending to be a diary charm, but he’d thought it over for a week before implementing it.

Anyone paying attention could tell that Lily had lost some of her vivacity since Easter holidays. She’d always been one of the first to answer questions in class before, but now she seemed to have trouble paying attention. Professors would call on her and she wouldn’t know the answer, which James hadn’t seen happen very often before.

If he were living in an ideal world, he’d be dating Lily and be in a position to comfort her. Sadly, he wasn’t. He hated seeing her so upset and wanted to help somehow. Wood was probably doing a decent enough job as her best friend, but sometimes there were things you didn’t even tell your best mate, and he thought Lily would sooner trust Terry Heaney with her secrets than James.

This really was a shenanigan for her benefit, he told himself. He only hoped it would work.

_\--_

“Sorry, Evans. Didn’t see you there,” James said. They’d just finished their Herbology exams and he may have accidentally-intentionally run into her as he walked by. Students milled around them in the corridor on their way to class.

“You’re an awful liar, you cad,” she said.

He was lying, of course. Sometimes he lied to her without thinking about it, just for the thrill of having her call him out on it.

“Cad. I like it,” he said. “Let’s bring that back into common usage, yeah?”

“You did see me and you deliberately walked into me.”

“What a load of bollocks. Why would I do that?”

“Because you are insane,” she said, bending down to pick up one of her dropped books from the ground. “I hope you enjoy your detention tonight with Kettleburn. Must you always be so predictable? Yes, we all know you can turn people into goats. Terry Heaney might permanently have horns because of all the times you’ve Transfigured him.”

“Admit it,” James said, beaming. “You’re glad because he’s a soddy little perv who should be left as a goat.”

“Despite his…fetishes…and however odd they may be, he’s still a human being,” she said, grabbing her other books and shoving them back in her bag.

“Not for much longer, by your own account. You’re not really that torn up about it but you feel the need to berate me anyway. It’s all right, I understand. Now pretend I said something mean and witty so you can say something else about me being a cad.”

“Clearly you don’t even need me to have this conversation, so I’ll just leave once you apologize for tripping over me.”

“Why would I be sorry? It was an accident.”

“A load of rubbish, as usual.”

“More like excellence,” James said. “I know I just aced that exam. Did you see how I handled those Spitting Chrysanthemums?”

“I had much more important things on my mind. My dinner options, whether my shoelaces have come undone…. There are so many pressing matters at hand, I simply don’t have any time to dedicate to you.”

“You try so hard to pretend that you don’t care, but I know how you really feel. It’ll be our secret.”

“Ugh, just apologize.”

“And lose your company?”

By this time, most of the other students had filtered out of the corridor, leaving James nearly alone with Lily. That hadn’t been his plan but he couldn’t say he was displeased it had turned out that way.

“Don’t you have people to terrorize?” she asked. “I think there’s someone in Hufflepuff who hasn’t been turned into an animal in a while.”

“You’re right, but Tilden Toots taught me how to handle the Chrysanthemums so he’s cool. For now.”

“I can’t believe you’re so insistent that you didn’t run into me intentionally. You are actually mad.” She shook her head. “It’s such a stupid point. Just say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

“You wanker. I have things to do.”

“Yes, talking to me is very important. I’m glad you’re setting aside time for it.”

“Merlin, the lengths you drive me to.” She pulled her wand out of her pocket, and James did likewise. “Oh, is that Algernon with a bacon sandwich?” she said, looking beyond James and breaking into a smile.

“Hm?” James’ head turned of its own volition.

She nearly hit him with a Body-Bind Curse, but he hadn’t been revising Defense for nothing. It bounced off his Shield Charm.

“Low, Lily Evans,” he said, glaring at her. “Don’t even tempt me with that.”

“I’ll convince him to bring you one if you apologize.”

“It’s not the same if he doesn’t bring it to me of his own free will,” James said darkly. “No deal.”

They stood at an impasse, wands raised. He noticed the enormous bags under her eyes and felt guilty for being a prick. Merlin, why did he start these arguments with her? Well, he knew exactly why, but he still berated himself. She probably wasn’t in the mood for haranguing him. He didn’t want to make her life more difficult.

“I’m sorry for running into you,” he said.

She eyed him suspiciously but didn’t immediately lower her wand. Finally she said, “Right. That’s that, then. You’re not forgiven.”

“I figured as much,” he said, pocketing his wand.

She followed suit and grabbed her schoolbag.

“Bye,” she said abruptly, then turned and marched away from him.

James ran a hand through his hair and left it there for a moment. Was there really any question why she wouldn’t go out with him?

He deliberately took the long way to the Great Hall to avoid running into her again.

\--

James and Peter had revised Transfiguration all weekend so they could keep Moony company on Tuesday night. Normally they slept in the Shack with him, but given their exam in the morning, they returned to their dormitory in the early morning and felt awful about it.

The next morning when they awoke, Sirius had already left the dormitory. James sighed. He’d hoped Sirius would at least ask after Moony but apparently his stubbornness knew no bounds. James had been angry with Sirius before, but Sirius’ callous and continued disregard for Remus sent him into a terrible mood. He thanked Merlin that he only had Transfiguration that day. He could have aced that exam in his sleep. Because he’d stayed up so late the night before, he nearly did.

Lily didn’t write in her diary again until that evening, sending his ring off during a game of wizard chess with Peter. After trouncing Peter, James headed up to his bed to read her entry. He nearly tore his curtains pulling them shut.

_How does this work, then? I write and then later you write back? I’d hoped for some more immediate feedback. Why wouldn’t you work instantly? You’re magic, after all._

_Of course I’ve talked to Emily about losing my parents. She’s my best friend, and she has been helpful. All the talking in the world won’t bring my parents back, though, or fill the hole left in my life. Still, I don’t know what I would do without her._

James had hoped for a longer entry this time, but he supposed she had to get used to writing out her thoughts. He wrote back the explanation he’d prepared for why he couldn’t reply instantly.

_I’m like a portrait. I used to be someone, but unlike a portrait I don’t remember who I used to be. I must have been someone quite wise to be turned into an advice charm, I imagine. Most of the time I visit other diaries. I can talk in generalities to them, but we can’t mention specifics or names or anything, so your secrets are safe with me. Considering I spend the vast majority of my time waiting for you to write, I hope you won’t hold it against me that I’m away more often than not._

It sounded plausible enough to him, and he hoped she would believe it, too. He didn’t know what to write back about Emily without sounding like an idiot, so he left his response at that.

\--

Normally the Friday night after exams was reserved for the Polish Pirate Poker conclusion. That night, however, James found himself sitting alone in the dormitory, pulling out Lily’s diary. He had no idea where Sirius had run off to and couldn’t be bothered to check the Map. Peter was getting a snack in the kitchens and Remus had been roped into a conversation in the common room with Mary MacDonald about their Defense exams.

_I’m not sure I like the sound of that, you being able to discuss my entries with other people. Will you agree not to share anything I write with anyone, ever, in any way?_

_This afternoon after the Arithmancy exam, Lucinda thought that I was lying when I said I could put my legs over my head. Even when I proved her wrong through demonstration she thought I was cheating through spellwork. She’s just jealous. She huffed off, saying she had to revise for exams. Emily and I laughed at her after she left, in part because I think she forgot that we’ve finished exams. Then I convinced Algernon, someone else’s cat, to fetch us bacon sandwiches. They were delicious._

James nearly shouted in outrage. Algernon _never_ brought him bacon sandwiches. He’d fetch nearly anything else but not bacon sandwiches. Life was so unfair. Although he was very impressed by Lily’s flexibility.

_I promise not to share what you write to me with anyone, ever. I’ll be the dullest diary at the parties, but if it makes you happy, then my pages are sealed. Well, not really, because then you couldn’t write in them. But you get my point. I assume._

\--

He’d imagined himself wisely doling out advice whenever she felt lonely, but he couldn’t help but feel that so far he’d accomplished exactly nothing because she didn’t seem to have a problem as far as her entries were concerned.

He spent several days hoping she would write something a bit more significant so he could show how useful he could be as the diary, but the opportunity didn’t arise. He saw her in the common room and the Great Hall, talking to her friends or reading alone. Sometimes, though, he’d catch her staring off into space, looking lost.

Finally he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and took what he considered to be a drastic measure. When his father had given him the Invisibility Cloak, he’d made James swear to only use it for eavesdropping in the direst situations. The power of invisibility wasn’t to be taken lightly, he’d said, and it was much too easy to become addicted to hearing everyone else’s private conversations. James wasn’t sure if his father would think this situation merited the use of the Cloak, but he certainly wasn’t going to ask because he suspected the answer would not be to his liking.

The week after exams, he found Wood and Lily lounging on two large armchairs in a corner of the common room. He lingered near the wall, trying to stay out of anyone’s potential path. Wood sat mostly upright, slouching terribly, while Lily sprawled sideways, head against one armrest and her legs hanging over the other.

She and Wood were holding a friendly debate about some book they’d read, but James leaned against the wall and hoped something interesting would come up. He’d just about had it with listening to them go on about some soddy sounding bloke named Heathcliff when Wood changed the subject.

“Have you written back to Barry?” she asked.

James tried to think of which House had a Barry and came up short.

“No,” Lily said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I haven’t had time.”

“Rubbish. We’ve no assignments or exams.”

“I’ve been…I dunno, reading.”

“Because the latest mystery novel is loads more important than writing to your solicitor.”

“I don’t want to think about it, much less talk or write about it.”

“Lily,” Wood said softly, “I hate to be the messenger, but you can’t just stick your head in the sand about this.”

“It’s my problem and I understand the consequences. Don’t worry about it.”

“I have to. I’m your best mate.”

“Petunia’s the one who should be worried about it. If she can refuse to handle things, why can’t I?”

“Do you really want her or, Merlin forbid, Barry to make these decisions?”

Lily scowled. “No.”

Wood gave her a small smile. “Are you sure? I hear he’s very good.”

Lily laughed softly and hurled a throw pillow at her. “Shut it. Although I do have to give him points for being flexible on owl communication.”

“Well, fortunately for you, you can choose your own solicitor now.”

Lily looked uncomfortable at the thought. “Once things are settled,” she said.

“That’s even more incentive to wrap things up: no more Barry.”

“Curse you and your logical arguments.”

James grimaced as they went back to discussing the stupid book that sounded dead boring. He decided he’d had enough and wandered down to the kitchens for a snack. At least his eavesdropping hadn’t been a complete waste. He’d learned something more about Lily’s situation, and he knew for certain that she was being looked after by Wood.

Although he hadn’t had the chance to prove it yet, he felt certain that he could help Lily, too, if only given the chance.

\--

Later that evening, while sitting in his dormitory and listening to Peter moan about Helena Hodge, James felt the increasingly familiar tightening around his finger. He gave an exaggerated yawn and shut his curtains when Peter was mid-sentence. He’d been looking for an excuse to stop listening anyway. Sirius had probably spelled himself deaf in his bed to keep from overhearing. James watched as she wrote:

_Don’t girls make lists of blokes they think are fit in these things? Naturally Emily and I have had this discussion before and here is what we determined:_

  1. _Isaac Stoneham. Too young now, but he’ll grow into it._
  2. _Evan McNamee_. _What a voice._
  3. _Remus Lupin. Sexy scars._
  4. _Robert Caulfield. Emily was involved in this discussion, after all, and I wasn’t going to argue._
  5. _Gaspard Shingleton. No explanation necessary._



James gaped at list. Granted, Isaac Stoneham would one day be attractive enough to be a model, but to include Remus and not James or Sirius? Lily and Wood must have been high on Alipotsy when they came up with the list. Again, he was at a complete loss over what to write back as the diary. He supposed he could advise her go after one of those blokes, but that wasn’t really an option and it still sounded ridiculous. He wished she would write about things like her solicitor problem. Then again, he supposed he wouldn’t be terribly helpful on that front, either. For now, James was stuck writing a stupid, one-line response to Lily’s entry and hating himself for it.

_What a diverse set of attributes those blokes have._

\--

The Leaving Feast normally lifted James’ spirits, reminding him of what a spectacular year he’d had at Hogwarts, but this year it just made him depressed. The year should have ended on a high note, but he’d lost the last Quidditch game—and as a result, the Quidditch and House Cups—to Slytherin. He may have lost his best mate, and the girl he fancied couldn’t stand to be around him for more than ten minutes at a time. At least he’d fared well enough on his exams, but that was a minor consolation at best.

His foul mood lingered through the train ride. Remus left to fulfill his prefect duties, leaving Peter and James in a compartment by themselves. They played a bit of Exploding Snap but mostly sat staring out the window at the passing scenery. James remembered that Peter probably had mixed feelings about going home too but didn’t want to bring up a sore topic.

At King’s Cross, James greeted his parents with hugs and an enormous smile. Algernon, who’d followed James off the train, rubbed himself against James’ dad’s legs. Odette had to explain the strange blue streak in his dad’s hair—James didn’t quite follow, as it had to do with their competing academic theories regarding the source of magic. Or something. James could never puzzle together exactly what it was they had spent nearly a century studying together.

“And that’s why you never bet against your mother,” his dad said, clapping James on the shoulder.

James’ lovely family moment was rather spoiled by Sirius’ arrival. James expected him to be as sullen as he’d been since the incident, but he was downright cheerful with James’ parents.

“Oscar! Odette! Lovely to see you,” he said.

“Sirius Black, welcome into the Potter family,” Oscar said, shaking Sirius’ hand and drawing him into a hug.

“Couldn’t be happier to be a part of it.”

James noticed that Sirius didn’t even look at James throughout the exchange. He watched, irked, as Odette pecked Sirius on the cheek, her bright red lipstick leaving a smudge.

“We’re so happy you’ll be joining us for the summer,” she said. “We’ve prepared a room for you right next to James, as requested.”

Sirius’ grin faltered for only the slightest moment, but James saw it. He was tempted to tell his parents that he and Sirius weren’t exactly on the best of terms and that there would be no shenanigans from them this summer. He’d kept news of the incident from the so far, in part because he didn’t want to think about it further and in part because he didn’t want them to rescind Sirius’ invitation. As angry as James was with Sirius, he didn’t want him to have to return to Grimmauld Place.

So instead James forced a semblance of a smile, picked up Algernon, and followed his parents and Sirius to the nearest Floo station. For once he couldn’t wait for summer to end.


	2. Revolution 9

On his first night home, James’ parents told him what he considered to be some very bad news.

“You need to get a job,” said his dad.

“It’ll make you more responsible,” said his mum.

“That sounds dead boring. No thanks,” replied James. He lost that argument nearly as soon as it started, though, so the next day he went out in search of short-term employment. There weren’t very many magical establishments nearby, and the few that did exist didn’t need help from someone who hadn’t got his N.E.W.T.s yet. That left Muggle work. James had always thought it would be difficult to work as a Muggle. He wouldn’t be allowed to use magic, for one, and for another he would have to make up a false background and school.

Actually, working as a Muggle sounded much more appealing, now that James thought about it.

“My name is James Potter,” he told the owner of the shoe shop. “I attend a very elite boarding school in Argentina most of the year and require summer employment. I can juggle knives and I’ve trained my cat to fetch me things.”

The owner was not impressed. James thought perhaps he had oversold the Argentina school. That was just as well, though, because working in a shoe shop would have made him feel too much like Terry Heaney.

He changed his story a bit for the bank and again for the pub, but nobody wanted to hire someone with no experience or training for only a few months.

That night he argued with his parents after dinner.

“I don’t want a bloody job. They’re stupid and meaningless and also no one wants to hire me.”

“You don’t exactly exude an air of responsibility by bringing your cat along with you,” Oscar said.

“Doesn’t it?” James said. Algernon purred in his lap. “I think it says I’m very responsible. It shows I take excellent care of my cat.”

“It makes him seem strange,” said Odette, nodding to Oscar.

James scowled. “Fine. I’ll leave Algernon at home tomorrow.”

The following evening, James half-regretted that concession. On the one hand, he had got himself a job. On the other hand, he had got himself a job. Now he had to be at the grocer’s at six in the bloody morning three days a week.

He wasn’t the only one spending the summer working: Lily had also got a job.

_Emily’s family was very kind to take me in. The least I can do is work for them in their bakery in return. They want to pay me wages but I’ve managed to convince them that we should discuss that at the end of the summer. It seems strange to get paid to do things that I enjoy._

When James asked about it, she went on:

_I help out wherever they need me. Mixing ingredients, managing the ovens, helping customers. I only wish Emily had decided to work with me. She hates baking, and actually has life goals and motivation, so she got a job running errands for a group of magical researchers._

Still, she didn’t write much even when he prompted her. He suspected his grand plan to help her was failing miserably.

\--

Although they asked about it, James didn’t have the heart to tell his parents about the source of tension between him and Sirius. He’d asked his mum to put Sirius in the spare room closest to his, back in March when he’d invited Sirius over for the summer, and now he regretted it. During the days when he wasn’t working or visiting Peter or Remus, he’d sit in the attic playing around with spells or flying in their spacious back garden. A few nights a week he hiked out to a remote field to practice Apparition.

He mostly saw Sirius at meals. Based on Sirius’ conversations with James’ parents, he had purchased a motorbike and was researching ways to magically enhance it once he turned of age in August. This sounded like exactly the sort of project that James would have loved to help him with, were their friendship not in the toilet. Still, James couldn’t help but wander through the family library and look up interesting charms for the motorbike. He spelled bookmarks onto a few pages for when Sirius came to his senses and properly apologized.

The week before James’ Apparition exam, Remus and Peter came by to wish him good luck. They sat in the back garden drinking tea, and James sent Algernon off to fetch him a sandwich.

“I don’t understand why he can bring me nearly anything but a bacon sandwich,” James lamented.

“He knows you want them more than anything,” Remus said.

“And he resents you sending him to fetch things all the time,” Peter added.

Remus nodded.

“Not bloody fair,” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t have to fetch me anything if he doesn’t want to.”

“Except he knows you’ll hex him if he doesn’t,” Remus said.

“I only did that the once because I was really hungry.” James’ face lit up when he saw Algernon carrying a sandwich wrapped in wax paper in his mouth. “Brilliant,” he said, reaching down to receive his snack. He frowned when he unwrapped it.

“What did you get?” asked Peter.

“Ham,” James said mournfully. He took a bite anyway.

Remus, as it turned out, had also got on the job bandwagon tutoring Muggle students in English.

“How did you manage that?” James asked.

“By going down to the primary school and applying,” Remus said slowly. “That’s typically how one gets a job.”

“Well, yeah, but your furry little problem….”

“It’s a flexible position. As the authority figure in charge of miscreant youths, I set the meeting times. And wouldn’t you know it, all the times I schedule work for me.”

“Don’t look,” said Peter quietly, “but Sirius is watching us through a window upstairs.”

“Have you made any progress, Prongs?” asked Remus.

“Not really.” James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We don’t talk much. I’ve been avoiding him. He’s been avoiding me. Between the two of us we could easily forget the other exists.”

Remus sighed.

“He bought a motorbike,” James added.

“Really?” Peter asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“Yeah! I saw it when he was out one day. Unbelievably cool.”

“He’s not casting magic, is he?” asked Remus.

“No, he’s just doing Muggle tune-ups for now. Actually, I was going through our library and I think—I _think_ —we could get it to fly.”

Even Remus perked up at the thought. “Of course. If you could just apply some of the same broomstick methodology – you’d know more about that, obviously –but I think it would work. I’ll look into my family library.”

“I nearly broke our mutual silence agreement to tell him, but, well,” said James. “I just—I don’t know what else to say without blowing up at him.”

“Maybe you do need to blow up at him,” said Peter, fishing an insect out of his tea cup. “He’s not good with subtle.”

“Maybe.”

“Wormtail has a point, I think,” said Remus.

“I don’t understand why I have to do it.” James received two very disbelieving looks from his mates. “All right, fine. I’ll try again. Imagine how awkward it would be if his birthday came up and we were still not speaking. Not to mention I could start attending every meal. I’m tired of ham sandwiches.” He glared at Algernon, who lay curled up in the shade beneath James’ chair.

\--

At Peter’s suggestion, James decided to try to get on friendlier terms with Sirius before confronting him. That evening, while he, Sirius, Algernon, and his mother were sitting in the dining room and waiting for his father to arrive for supper, he cleared his throat.

“Sirius, do you know how I got Algernon?”

Sirius only stared at him for a second before warily replying, “I don’t believe so, no.”

His mother smiled.

“On my tenth birthday, my parents threw me a very large party. All the neighborhood children came. Well, the magical ones. And we were all gathered around the birthday cake, about to cut it, when all of a sudden some _thing_ jumped on my back, claws tearing into my shirt. It bloody hurt,” James said, smiling fondly. “I managed to get it off my back and into my arms, and there he was. Clearly a very purely-bred orange cat, trained from infancy in stealth techniques.”

Sirius let out a shout of a laugh, then quickly smothered it. James looked up to Sirius and his mother sharing equally amused looks.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” said Odette.

“You can definitely tell Algernon’s heritage by looking at him,” Sirius agreed.

James narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t care for you laughing about Algernon. Come on, Algie, we’ll wait in my room,” he said, standing up from his seat.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain slice down his left leg. He looked down to see the four long gashes Algernon had ripped along his shin.

“Fine! Fine! Never calling you that again!” he shouted at a hissing Algernon. “That was completely uncalled for.”

When Odette and Sirius wouldn’t stop laughing, James did leave. Or rather, most of him did. He realized once he had Apparated to his room that his determination had been off and he’d lost a toe. So much for his dramatic exit, he thought. He quickly Apparated back, threw dirty looks at Odette and Sirius, grabbed his toe off the floor, and traveled by Floo powder to St. Mungo’s.

While waiting to be seen in the Spell Damage ward, he realized Lily hadn’t written in her diary for nearly two weeks. After a Healer reattached his toe and scolded him for poor Apparition technique, James returned home and headed straight to his room. He thought about calling Algernon to fetch him a sandwich, but decided that was a very bad idea. They were both bound to be upset from earlier and would only hurt each other more if they didn’t both sleep on it. Instead he opened up his trunk and got out his copy of Lily’s diary. He penned a quick note before shoving the diary under his mattress.

_How have you been? It’s been a while since you wrote. Anything exciting happen in the bakery?_

Two days later she wrote back.

_Sorry to be so dull. Nothing exciting going on here at all. Working, avoiding dealing with my parents’ belongings, and drinking tea fill my days. This is why I don’t see the point of a diary. Am I supposed to note every detail of my day or just be maudlin? I’m feeling generally better these days. It helps to keep busy, which the bakery and Emily’s nearly constant presence do. Actually I’ve needed some time to myself lately so I’ve put myself in charge of keeping the Woods’s labrador very well exercised. I’ve learned that I’m rubbish at dealing with dogs. I’m much more of a cat person, but taking Basil on walks does get me out of the house alone._

_Emily’s so excited to be an aunt soon, and of course her parents are over the moon about being grandparents. You should hear them talk about the boy who hasn’t even been born yet. I think he’ll be flying by the time he’s a year old. It’s difficult to be melancholy in such a happy household._

_And yet, I manage._

Algernon had always liked Lily, and it was good to hear that she was feeling happier these days. Mostly. Even if she was near a dog. James hated dogs, except for Sirius. He was never sure what they were up to and didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. Which wasn’t far, but he thought the point still stood.

\--

Between the full moon, his job, and preparing for his Apparition exam, James didn’t have much time for serious discussions about morality with Sirius. He was happy to say, though, that without Snape’s interference he passed his Apparition exam. Barely, but he wasn’t about to share that with anyone else. He and Remus and Peter celebrated by Apparating to Diagon Alley and getting stupidly drunk. James felt guilty for thinking it, but it was convenient that Sirius wasn’t on the best of terms with them at the moment. Sirius wouldn’t be seventeen until August and would’ve had to travel by Floo powder.

By the time he got around to talking to Sirius, it was already the second week of July. They now spoke at meals but not otherwise, until one day James wandered into the garage after work. His father didn’t own a car but he liked the way the garage looked in the garden.

James wasn’t used to seeing an actual vehicle in there, but the motorbike was a thing of beauty and fit right in. Black, sleek, and sexy, with chrome handlebars and an engine that was louder than a baby Mandrake. He eyed it longingly for a moment before speaking.

“Hey,” was his brilliant opener.

Sirius jumped a bit from his position on the ground next to his bike, nearly hitting it with his wrench. “Er, hi.”

James ran his hand through his hair, not sure what else to say. “Your bike is dead cool,” he said, unnecessarily in his opinion.

“Obviously,” Sirius said, doing a better job at feigning nonchalance than James. “Can’t wait until I’m of age and can start enchanting it.”

James’ lips curled in a half-grin. “My parents might buy that you haven’t started, but I looked. You’ve already added a Self-Cleaning Charm to the headlight.”

Sirius mirrored his smile. “I don’t think either of them knows enough about cars or motorbikes to have any idea what they come pre-installed with.”

“Did you tell them the previous owner added it?”

“I may have implied that but I certainly never said it outright.”

James let out a short laugh. “I don’t think they really mind anyway. You’re so close to your birthday now anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, unenthusiastically.

Wishing he hadn’t brought it up, James decided to plunge right in. “Look. We, er, we miss you a lot. Moony and Wormtail and I.”

Sirius grimaced. He climbed to his feet and walked over to the makeshift tool bench, appropriately named because it was actually a modified stone bench that had used to sit in the garden until Algernon had inexplicably started hating it. Sirius threw the wrench in a half-filled cardboard box and began rummaging around, looking for something else.

“You three are the ones who shut me out,” Sirius said.

“I know, and we hate it, but you have to see sense.”

“Why are you so insistent that I think it was a mistake?”

“Because we can’t be mates with someone who thinks casual murder is acceptable.”

“You are so self-righteous,” Sirius said, in a too-even voice. “You pull this sort of shit all the time and no one calls you out on it.”

“Bollocks. When have I ever tried to _kill_ someone?”

Sirius looked over his shoulder at James. “Isobel was in love with you.”

James frowned. “What does that have to do with anything? I’d hardly compare that to potential murder. Besides, she wasn’t in love with me.”

Sirius turned around to face James. “What happened is that you fucked up— _really_ fucked up—and no one berated you over it.”

“Isobel certainly did.”

“At least I admitted I hurt other people—not physically—with my actions,” said Sirius, gripping the edge of the workbench on either side of him.

“You could have done.”

“You’re missing the point, James. You broke Isobel’s heart when you cheated on her. Everyone could see it but you, but did you get thrown out of the Marauders? Of course not.”

“What happened with Isobel didn’t matter to the Marauders. It wasn’t a big deal because Isobel and I weren’t that serious anyway.”

Sirius laughed darkly. “You keep telling yourself that to justify getting a handjob from Wendy Wilde.”

James’ hand curled into a fist. He couldn’t believe Sirius thought the two mistakes equivalent, and he was stunned to see the ire Sirius normally reserved for Slytherins directed at him. “I was high on Alipotsy,” James said, his voice low. “I can’t be held entirely responsible for my actions, and anyway I didn’t break her heart. She would’ve had to be in love with me.”

“Nothing’s ever your fault,” Sirius all but growled. “Isobel had names picked out for your kids, you sod. You cheated on her and then made it seem unimportant so you wouldn’t feel bad. You don’t get to pretend I’m the only one in the group who’s made a huge mistake. I’m just the only one getting shunned. At least I asked Moony for forgiveness.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I apologized to Isobel.”

“Except it was bloody terrible. I can’t understand how you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that she didn’t love you. It was awful being around you two, you know. The disparity of affection in your relationship was immediately apparent to anyone who so much as looked at you.”

James fought the urge to reach for his wand. “You’re talking shit.”

“I’m not, and you’d realize it if your head weren’t so far up your arse. You apologized to Isobel but you didn’t really mean it because you didn’t fucking care about her.”

“I did mean my apology,” said James, trying to keep his voice at a normal tone. He did draw his wand, then, and Sirius wasn’t far behind. “I made a mistake, yeah, but nowhere near as bad as yours, and I’m sure she’s forgiven me by now anyway. It’s been more than three months! More than a month later and Remus still won’t speak to you!”

“You dated Isobel for nearly two terms! How could you possibly think she didn’t love you?”

“You barely spoke ten words to her our entire relationship,” James nearly shouted. “How would you bloody know how she felt?”

“Peter hears things. Word gets around. We decided to keep it from you, but you know what? I’m done mollycoddling you. You were a right bastard to her, and you have no grounds for lecturing me about me Snape or morality or whatever the bloody hell you think this is about.”

James raised his arm, wand poised. Sirius matched his stance.

They stood silent for a moment.

“Are we really going to do this?” James asked angrily.

Sirius stared at James, unmoving.

After a few moments, James lowered his wand. On the verge of shaking with frustration, he Apparated to his room and began casting hex after hex on his pillows. That hadn’t gone at all like he’d planned.

\--

After a sleepless night, James Apparated to Remus’ house.

“You’re normally very attentive, James,” said Remus’ mum, Marjorie, as she ushered him in through the front door, “but Remus won’t be recovering until the end of the month. Blue moon, you know.”

“Er, no. I’m just here to see him, ah, normal,” James said. He followed her into the sitting room and sat down on a rather worn floral sofa.

“Oh! How nice,” she said. She smiled and her skin crinkled around her pale hazel eyes. “I’ll just fetch him, then. Can I get you some tea or water?”

“No, thanks. Just Remus, please.”

She headed over to the stairs while James looked around. He realized he had only been inside the house proper a few times in the past couple of years to visit Remus during recovery. Normally he just Apparated into the root cellar to be with Moony.

“James?” Remus said, coming down the stairway. “Didn’t expect you.”

“We should, er, talk. About—we don’t have a codename for this. Why don’t we have a codename for this? That’s so unlike us.”

“It’s normally Sirius’ job.” Remus looked out the window onto the front garden. “The sun’s out. Let’s go for a walk.”

He led James out the door and around the corner to a small playground behind a primary school. A handful of children pushed each other on the swing set.

“Moony,” James said, “do you think I broke Isobel’s heart?”

Remus contemplated the question before answering. “Why do you ask?”

“Sirius said you all agreed I was a prick to her.”

“I take it this came up during your attempt at a civil discussion? Because we all say stupid things in the heat of anger.”

“Doesn’t really matter how it came up, I think. Do _you_ think I was a prick?” James asked as they sat down on a wooden bench under an oak tree.

“You were young,” Remus said simply.

“It was only a few months ago!”

“Yes. And you were younger then.”

James gave a low laugh. “So I was a prick.”

“You did cheat on her.”

“Well, yeah, but…. I dunno. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

“Because you didn’t like her all that much.”

James bristled. “Yeah, actually, I did.”

“James, you’re truly not an idiot,” Remus said gently. “We both know you didn’t like her all that much.”

“She was pretty cool,” he protested.

“But you didn’t fancy her like… you do Lily Evans.”

“That’s what Sirius said, too. Sort of.”

“How did you get on this topic? I thought you were going to discuss—the incident.”

“Well, we were,” said James, kicking a small stone away from his shoe. “But he ended up just attacking me for cheating on Isobel. He doesn’t think I’m in a position to judge him when I’m such a rubbish person myself.”

“Interesting. I hadn’t thought he’d bring that up,” Remus said. “He was the one who never wanted us to talk about it with you.”

“We got onto that topic and I got completely sidetracked.” James turned to looked Remus in the eye. “So you really think I was a prick for cheating on Isobel?”

“If you want my honest opinion, then yes. It doesn’t matter if you loved her or if she loved you. You were in a monogamous relationship and you violated it.”

James was not best pleased to hear this, but he couldn’t deny that he’d had some lingering guilt over the issue since he’d apologized, rather half-heartedly, to Isobel. He honestly hadn’t thought she’d been in love with him—she’d never said as much—but in retrospect, perhaps she had been. Still, it was easier to take in the news that he was an arse when it came from Remus in that quiet, soothing tone of his, than from his riled up maybe-former-best-mate.

Remus continued, “It was patently clear that you weren’t beating yourself up about it, and we all felt that you wouldn’t take our criticism particularly well. And then there was the whole Apparition exam fiasco, and then it seemed too late to bring it up.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, thinking. Finally, James said, “I wish you had told me I was out of line.”

“Should we have shunned you, too?”

“Well, I dunno about that, but I do rely on my mates to tell me when I’m being a complete arse. Isn’t that how people learn what’s moral? Because it’s all socially driven anyway.”

“I suppose so,” Remus said. “It’s just… both you and Sirius can be so obstinate and unwilling to see what’s right in front of your faces.”

“Not always. Not if you all ganged up on me.”

“Sirius has been mentally ignoring this for two months because he doesn’t want to admit he nearly killed someone, even if it was someone he hates and we all ganged up on him,” Remus pointed out.

“I suppose.” James leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees and hung his head. “This is such a fucking mess.”

“Isobel or Sirius?”

“Both.” James sighed. “I’ll try to talk to Sirius again. I won’t let him get off topic this time.”

“He did have a valid complaint, but maybe now that you’re showing remorse, he will, too.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” James said. “Have you actually forgiven him, then?”

“Mostly,” Remus said. “No one did get hurt. Snape knows I’m a werewolf and that could make my life more unpleasant. On the other hand, he’s so terrified of me now that maybe he’ll stay clear of us.”

“Unlikely.”

“Agreed. But I wasn’t completely surprised when he told Snape. Hurt and betrayed, yes. But Sirius has his temper, and he hates admitting he’s wrong, so even when he knows he’s being an idiot he can’t really apologize.”

After a beat, James said, “I miss having him around.”

“Seconded,” Remus said quietly. “Let’s hope he comes around soon.”

\--

James decided to talk to Sirius somewhere away from sharp and heavy objects. After his parents finished their lunch the next afternoon, leaving James and Sirius sitting across the kitchen table from one another, James took his chance.

“If you could do it over, would you still tell Snape?” he asked, pushing his half-finished plate of sausages aside.

“Yes, because then maybe he would’ve been turned and could fucking understand how hard it is for Moony. Or maybe he’d be dead. In any case he wouldn’t be able to mess up any of your exams again,” Sirius said, as if it settled the matter.

“See, that’s exactly the problem,” James said, trying to keep calm this time. “You don’t regret the decision to tell Snape. You regret that we got angry with you for doing it.”

“We all would’ve been happier if he weren’t around anymore, and besides, I think I would’ve gotten blamed, not Remus.” Sirius picked up the _Prophet_ sitting on the chair next to him and held it close in front of his face, pretending to read it.

“Considering your family, I thought you’d know that _wizards hate werewolves_.” James had thought he wasn’t angry anymore, but the frustration that had built up two days ago quickly returned. “It wouldn’t matter if it were your fault. Remus still would’ve been the acting party who killed or turned Snape. Not to mention that you can’t just kill people!”

“I gave him information—he chose to act on it,” Sirius said from behind the paper. “Did you know there was a strange, deadly attack on a Muggle town yesterday? They suspect Death Eater involvement. ”

“How can I make you understand that you could’ve killed him?” James suddenly smiled, perhaps a bit evilly. “That’s the sort of thing your parents would do.”

Sirius smacked the paper down onto the table. “That’s low, James.”

“And it’s fucking true,” James said, glad to finally have his full attention. “Just admit that you were wrong—not just that you regret it because we got angry. You put our group at risk and someone’s life.”

“Snape’s life isn’t worth one of ours.”

“It’s not about that—you could have been a murderer!”

“It wouldn’t have been _murder_.” Sirius began to reach for the paper again, but James snatched it away from him.

“Yes, it bloody well would have been! You knew he’d go into a very dangerous situation where he could have died.”

“Not quite murder,” he grumbled.

“So bloody what? If not murder, something close, and you could have gone to prison. I can’t be friends with someone who is willing to spend years in Azkaban for what he thinks is a laugh!”

Suddenly James looked at his hand. His family ring had shrunk, but he couldn’t leave, not in the middle of this. He took a deep breath and said, “Do you want to know why you weren’t expelled?”

“Do enlighten me.”

“Because I begged Dumbledore to let me sort it out. I promised him I’d get you to realize what a huge mistake you’d made.”

“And why the bloody hell would you promise something like that?”

“Sirius, people don’t just get away with casual murder attempts.” It was actually quite nice to tell Sirius this, finally. “I told him you would, er, apologize.”

“To Snape.”

“And mean it.”

Sirius stared at him. “Are. You. Mad.”

“Are you? Given the choice, are you really willing to risk years of your life, and Moony’s goodwill, just to get back at Snape for something he did to me?”

Sirius said nothing and looked away.

“You were right, you know. I was a prick to Isobel. I realize that now. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t cheat on her again because it was a stupid, childish thing to do.

“Do you know what I told Moony?” James continued. “That I wish you three had said something to me because I rely on you to tell me when I’m out of line. So this is us, telling you that you were out of line. If I can’t make you apologize—and mean it—Dumbledore might change his mind. I didn’t want to threaten you with this, but I didn’t expect you to be so bloody obstinate.”

He’d never seen Sirius like he did at that moment: a bit horrified, mostly angry, and somehow still proud. That bloody Black pride. James wanted to curse it out of him. Instead he walked out without waiting for a reply. He couldn’t deal with any more stupidity without blowing something up first.

\--

Two hours later he collapsed into bed, still feeling antsy. Exploding flower pots and running around as Prongs hadn’t helped him as much as he’d hoped. He wondered what Lily was up to and remembered that his ring had tightened earlier. He rolled over and pulled her diary duplicate out from under his mattress and spoke the password.

_I always understood that life was unfair. Well, I thought I did. Yesterday really cemented that in my mind, though. I mean, carved it into stone and lit it on fire. If you could light stone on fire. Sorry, I’m incoherent right now._

_It’s not enough to lose my parents. No, that’s not enough for me to deal with. Now my best friend is gone, too. Killed by a group of people who would love nothing more than to kill me next. Lovely._

_Who am I supposed to go to with this? No one’s left. I’ve no extended family in the country. I’m not close enough to anyone else at Hogwarts to go crying to them now. I’ve got a headache from crying so much but I can’t seem to stop. Emily’s parents are kind but we’re not close enough for this. She was my best friend but she was their daughter. At least they have another son left. I’d say I have Petunia but that’s not true in the slightest. Obviously it’s my fault my parents died, after all. Losing everyone you love in a few months: I don’t recommend it._

_Why did Emily have to get that job? Why couldn’t she work in her parents’ bakery with me? Then she wouldn’t have been there for the Death Eater attack. They didn’t like their findings, I assume. And why did my parents take that shortcut after dropping me off at King’s Cross? They know it’s not really that much shorter and it feels longer because it has more traffic signals and you just sit idling and_

_It hurts so much and I think I might burst any minute now, splinter into a million pieces and drift away on the wind. I apologize, that’s really terrible prose. At least I have an excuse for being terrible. What does it matter? This is my diary, after all. I’m surprised I’ve written this much. I’m having trouble focusing. My chest aches._

_How am I going to go through my last year at Hogwarts without Emily? How am I going to get through life without my parents? They were supposed to be there in case I couldn’t find a job after I take my N.E.W.T.s. They were supposed to help me decide which house to buy or flat to rent. Because Emily and I were going to be flatmates and now we never will be. I’ve always hated people who throw themselves a pity fest when something awful happens but I can’t remember what it’s like to not wake up in the morning feeling absolutely miserable. I can’t remember what it’s like to not drift off into a happier thought, just for a moment, only to be brought back by the memory that my loved ones are all dead._

_How awful am I that I only have three people I really, truly love? I have other friends and I’m sure they would try to help but they’re not Emily, they’re not my best friend, and now I don’t have a best friend. How do people live without a best friend? I suspect they rely on their parents but mine are also dead, so shit. Should I be more upset about my parents? I only get one set of them. You can have more than one best friend in your lifetime. Preferably one but oh God I don’t want to replace Emily._

_I’m going to go curl up under the covers and pretend I don’t exist._

James blinked slowly after finishing the entry. All he could think was that he had no idea what anyone, much less a charmed diary, should say to that.


	3. Yer Blues

James lay awake most of the night, trying to decide what to write back to Lily. She’d finally confided in her diary but James felt completely unequipped to console her. He’d lost his favorite relatives earlier that year—his aunt, uncle and cousin—but losing your parents and your best mate was probably much worse. He couldn’t imagine living without Sirius, let alone Remus, Peter, and his parents, too.

He had a hard time comprehending that he’d never see Emily again. They’d been Chasers together for three years. Only when he realized that he’d have to have try-outs to fill her position did it start to hit him that she was truly gone. Never again would they do the Titshaw Twirl against Slytherin. She’d never tease him about his cat or his broomstick or his inability to Apparate properly.

He’d never told anyone, but he’d fancied her a bit in third year when they’d been selected as Chasers. She’d been so deft with the Quaffle and so willing to mock James endlessly that he couldn’t help but like her. It had only lasted a couple of months before he became obsessed with Austine Kempton and her wild, curly hair.

James also considered how to reveal that he knew Emily had died. The _Prophet_ had covered the attack but hadn’t released the names of the victims. He wondered if they would. If nothing else he could wait and hope the paper released her name, either in an article or in the obituaries, but that might take days, if it happened at all.

Fortunately he received an owl the next morning from Edwin Edwards, one of his Beaters, informing him about Emily’s death and the funeral that Friday afternoon. Over breakfast he mentioned her death to his parents. Sirius heard but didn’t react much. His parents expressed their sympathy at her death, particularly that she’d been killed by Death Eaters. Odette offered to brew him a Calming Potion, but considering that the last time he’d had one of those James had ended up in a coma for two days, he declined.

He spent his day at work sweeping up the back room, his mind focused on what to tell Lily. For a minute he debated telling her that he was her diary charm, now that she was sharing very personal thoughts with him, but he dismissed the idea. She didn’t need another terrible revelation in her life right now.

Before James had decided what to write back, Lily wrote another entry.

_After my parents died, the strange thing was that the world went on without them. I could be a mess inside, so changed, and everything else and everyone else would be the same. That was okay because Emily was my best friend and I could rely on her. Stupidly I assumed she would always be my best friend. Then again, when I was a child I thought Sev was supposed to be my best friend forever. He turned out to be a prick, and Emily turned out to be dead, so I just don’t know what to think anymore._

_On top of everything, Petunia has decided not to invite me to her wedding. I only found out about it because our great-aunt in Belgium accidentally sent me an invitation and Petunia wrote me another letter uninviting me._

Lily’s life was falling apart and James had no experience with that. His life had, by and large, been fantastic. Besides losing his cousin’s family, and nearly losing Algernon in April, James had not suffered large losses. Most of his family had died before he was born, and he’d never lost a best mate before (Sirius wasn’t a lost cause yet, he told himself).

He flipped through his earlier responses to Lily’s entries and frowned. It was official: he was absolute shit at giving advice to girls. He didn’t know why he’d thought this would be a good idea. When he’d come up with the plan, he’d thought she’d write about her parents and school and other normal things. It seemed ridiculous now, but he thought that he would just know what to write back. Not two months and a handful of entries later, he had to concede that perhaps he’d overestimated his own abilities to give advice.

Then again, he thought, flipping to her latest entry, she didn’t quite need advice per se. Especially now with Emily gone, what she really needed was someone to listen. When Death Eaters killed his relatives, James and his mates had got completely pissed in Hogsmeade. No one had told him how to feel or what to do, really. He’d just appreciated that his mates knew he felt like shit and were there for him.

With that in mind, he finally wrote back.

_I wish I could do something to change any of the awful things that happened to you over the past few months. Unfortunately my capabilities are quite limited in that respect. All I can say is how sorry I am, and that I’m here reading your words._

_We all wish we could have the same friends and the same life forever, but things change. The only thing we can do is adjust and try to keep the things that make us happy and leave behind the things that don’t._

\--

Although James was the only one of the Marauders who had spoken with Emily on a regular basis, Peter insisted on accompanying him to the funeral. Remus’ students had begged him for an emergency study session because they had an oral report the following day, and James didn’t think Sirius cared enough to go. Ever since their last discussion, they had both retreated to pretending the other one didn’t exist.

Dressed in a Muggle suit, James stumbled out of the Woods’ fireplace into a sitting room filled with wizards and witches desperately trying to pass as Muggles. He moved aside to make room for Peter. When Peter arrived, James couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealously at his grace. The Floo system hated James, just like Apparition. Flying was the only sensible transportation, really.

James knew wizards and witches lived in the house, but he’d have had no idea if he hadn’t just come in through the fireplace. He had only been in Muggle homes a few times as a child, visiting neighbors with his parents. He hadn’t cared for the visits, although the neighbors themselves were fine. The Wood sitting room had the same eerily still atmosphere where none of the pictures moved and the clocks only told the time. Even the rose-patterned wallpaper somehow struck James as a particularly Muggle selection.

A woman who looked remarkably like Emily walked over to greet them.

“Hello, I’m Irene Moore, Emily’s aunt,” she said, reaching out to shake James’ hand. “Thank you so much for accommodating us. There’s not a drop of magical blood in Olive’s side of the family and she really appreciates you not using magic today.”

“We’re just glad we could come,” said Peter smoothly. James hadn’t been so envious of him since Peter had been the first Marauder to shag a girl. “I’m Peter and this is James. We went to school with Emily.”

“I’m sure Olive and Stuart appreciate your presence,” she said, now eyeing the latest arrivals stepping out of the fireplace. “If you’ll excuse me.”

After she left, James said, “I haven’t been to a funeral since I was about seven, and never a Muggle one.”

“All of my mum’s older relatives seemed to go right in a row,” Peter said. “We only attended a few funerals because of Penny, but it was enough.”

“How is Penny?” James asked, suddenly hyperaware of Peter’s situation and the fact that he hadn’t asked after his sister in ages.

“All right, considering. We went for a walk yesterday, actually. Hadn’t done that in months.” He smiled briefly. “Then she had an episode and broke some tree branches, so I had to Apparate us back home before she did any more damage.”

“Oh,” said James. He was crap at sympathy and regretted bringing it up. Coming to this funeral may have been a mistake.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t know what I should say. I do like hearing about her.”

“I don’t know what you should say either, but thanks for asking about her.”

James shoved his hands in his pants pockets and nervously looked around the room. A handful of middle-aged witches and wizards left through the front door, headed for the church. They looked vaguely ridiculous, in clothing that even James could tell was outdated. He proudly adjusted his bow tie and noted that no one else had been classy enough to wear coat tails.

When he saw some of his current and former Quidditch teammates, he nudged Peter. “I want to talk to Slade. He’s playing for the Wasps now, you know.”

Peter joined him for a brief conversation with his teammates—apparently the Muggles were blaming the Irish for the attack—before they left for the church a few blocks away.

All of the witches and wizards sat on one side of the aisle, the Muggles on the other. Flower wreathes and bouquets blanketed Emily’s white coffin in the front of the room. James saw Lily seated next to Emily’s family in the front pew and debated the merits of talking to her later. He certainly wasn’t her favorite person, and he had already proven how ill-equipped he was to offer his condolences.

James fidgeted throughout the minister’s oration, both physically and emotionally uncomfortable. He longed to cast a Cushioning Charm on the hard wooden pew and a Cooling Charm on himself. The thin layer of clouds that had accompanied them on their walk to the church had moved on. The sun streamed through the windows now, casting brightly color patches across the floor. He lightly traced the blue ray of light that fell on top of his knee.

He wished the minister would hurry up. Although he and his parents were Christians, they’d never been fond of attending church. When the minister led the group through a hymn, James silently mouthed the word Apparition over and over again, hoping no one noticed.

Finally someone else rose to speak: a tall, stocky man with an incongruously boyish face. He introduced himself as Emily’s brother and, fighting off tears, spoke about a girl whose life had been taken too soon.

The minister led another prayer and a brief sermon before asking the mourners to gather around the coffin. James ignored most of the minister’s speech in lieu of mentally saying goodbye to Emily. He had a hard time picturing Emily’s body inside the coffin—or rather, what remained of her body after being blown up, he thought with a grimace—and that made it difficult to fathom that he wouldn’t see her again. They’d been teammates but not really good friends, even after six years in the same classes. He’d had a much harder time dealing with the death of his uncle, aunt, and cousin in February, but he hadn’t been able to attend that funeral.

While they all stood listening to the minister, James noticed Lily standing near Emily’s parents. Although she kept her face expressionless, he wasn’t surprised to see her eyes welling up.

Four men, including Emily’s brother, carried the coffin out to the cemetery, the mourners trailing slowly behind. After they lowered Emily into the grave, the minister recited a phrase even James was familiar with.

“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life,” the minister said, scattering a handful of dirt onto the coffin.

After a few silent minutes, small groups of mourners began to head back to the Wood household. Although Emily’s family left fairly quickly, Lily and Mary MacDonald stayed behind, holding each other’s hand. Peter lightly elbowed him and James, not knowing what he would do if he stayed, walked back with him.

Inside the Woods’ home, James made sure to find Edwin and thank him for letting James know about the funeral.

“She would have wanted us to be here. We were a team,” Edwin said, his bright blue eyes welling up.

“We were. I’ll have a hell of a time replacing her as Chaser, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t talk like that!”

“Er, Edwin,” said James cautiously. “I know that we’ll all miss her, but you realize we can’t play a Chaser short.”

“Sorry, I’m just—upset. She and I were randomly paired together for the term in Defense,” he explained, “and we just—she was just so amazing.”

“How close were you two? I hadn’t realized….”

Edwin sniffed. “Not particularly close, but she… you never saw how good she was with spells. And she was kind, and funny, and beautiful….”

“Merlin, you were in love with her,” James blurted out, a bit louder than he would have liked.

Edwin shushed him. “She didn’t know. No one did.”

“What about Eira?” James asked, scandalized. Edwin and Eira Hubbard had been snogging each other senseless since March, which was particularly disgusting because Edwin had a freakishly long tongue.

“I love her, too,” Edwin said sadly. “I think I’m going to marry her.”

“Er, right.” James spotted Peter talking to Mary and Lily across the room. “I’ve, er, got to go pay some more respects. Thanks again.”

Halfway to Mary and Lily he began to panic. What would he say? Sorry your best mate got killed by group of evil sods? But then he was next to them, and they were looking at him expectantly, and he was talking.

“I can’t believe they’re blaming this on the Irish,” his mouth said without much input from his brain.

“How else are the Muggles supposed to explain it?” asked Mary, as if that hadn’t been a complete non sequitur. James had always liked Mary, except when she spoke French at him. “They don’t expect random, large-scale violence without a motive.”

“Still, I like the Irish. They’ve got great stew.”

Lily stared at him, her eyes a bit puffy. “You are a lunatic.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m crap at funerals.”

“Clearly,” she said.

“I am sad. Just to make that clear.”

“Right.”

“But I don’t…show it. Well.”

“Yeah, I think we got that,” said Mary.

“What are you supposed to say at a funeral anyway?” asked James.

“Oh, there’s ‘sorry for your loss,’” said Lily. “Or ‘we’ll all miss her.’ Or ‘such a shame—she was so young.’”

“Yes,” said James. “Pretend I said all three of those things.”

“Right,” Mary said, exchanging an amused look with Lily.

“I need to go find Peter,” he told them. “I’m sorry for your loss. And that she was young.”

Lily muffled a laugh with her hand. Mary placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

James didn’t get the joke and frowned at them before leaving to find the few other Quidditch players. When they’d all gathered together, they paid their respects to Emily’s parents. Thankfully there were enough of them that James only had to nod and look sad while Edwin spoke. James suspected Edwin was coming off a bit like a madman to Emily’s parents, what with his too frequent compliments about Emily’s mental and physical prowess, but it was still better than James going on about Irish stew.

\--

That evening during dinner, James’ family ring tightened. After dessert he ducked into his room to check on Lily’s diary.

_Her funeral was awful. I didn’t want to speak but her mother asked me to and I said no. I couldn’t speak at my parents’ funeral either. I hope my parents and Emily don’t hate me for it._

_I hate myself for being so weak._

_I hate funerals. No one knows what to say and I don’t know what to say back. Everyone just mills about, sad._

_Mostly I hate that they’re dead._

James couldn’t have agreed more. Funerals were crap. Still, he wanted to write something back. He tried to ignore giving advice again and just writing what he thought.

_It is strange that everyone insists on giving the deceased a farewell party. Some people find comfort in them, though. It can help them move on to see the body disappear under the ground or into a fire. Otherwise it can seem like the person is just on vacation or something and not gone forever. Still, I wish we’d find a different way to send people off._

Most people wanted funerals, as far as he knew. Truly he was sad that Emily had been killed, but the funeral had just been weird and vaguely upsetting. Seeing everyone else sad only made James feel worse because he realized how many people would be affected by her death. On the one hand, he liked knowing that she had an impact on the world. On the other, being around other sad people didn’t make James any happier. Maybe he would have appreciated the funeral more if it had been Sirius in the coffin.

Then again, he would be devastated if Sirius died, even if Sirius was being a complete arse at the moment. Standing in a room full of people wouldn’t make James feel any better that his best mate was dead. He suspected that if Sirius suddenly keeled over and died that James’ first instinct would be to blow something up and then to curl up in bed under his blankets and never come out.

With death on his mind, James couldn’t help but picture what would happen if he died. Obviously his parents would consider killing themselves after losing their only son. He suspected Sirius would go a bit mad, despite their current disagreement. He didn’t handle large life changes very well. Remus and Peter would be upset, too, as would the rest of the Quidditch team. Lily might care a bit but probably not very much. Isobel…would she celebrate his demise? Very probably.

He frowned.

Maybe he could change that, he thought.

\--

The next day James strolled into his dad’s study, past some family portraits that were passed out after a large party they’d held the night before. Compared to his mother’s study, it was a haven of organization. Most of his dad’s books were properly filed in the library, leaving the dark oak shelves filled with awards, souvenirs, and magical items of interest. His father sat behind his large desk, writing, the early morning sun streaming in through the large windows behind him.

“Dad, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” said Oscar, setting his quill in its inkpot. “Is this about Sirius?”

“No, actually,” James said, uncomfortable but desperate for help. “It’s about a girl.”

“Oooh, yes, tell me all about her.”

James thought his dad sounded a bit too eager for a man with such wrinkled skin.

“Er, not like that,” he said, sitting down in the wooden chair opposite his father. “You know Isobel, that girl I was dating for a while?”

“Are you back together? I thought she’d finished with you.”

“She did. And with good reason.” James grimaced. “We’re not getting back together, and that’s fine because I don’t actually fancy her that much,” he said. “The thing is…I cheated on her.”

“James,” Oscar scolded.

“I know. It was really stupid and I feel terribly guilty about it. Now,” he added. “I didn’t then because I was being an idiot and I never apologized properly.”

And he hadn’t, really. She’d confronted him as soon as she’d heard—pure Gryffindor courage, that one. Fortunately, she had class and hadn’t had it out with him in the common room or, Merlin forbid, the Great Hall. She’d dragged him up to his dormitory and shooed out Sirius and Peter. James had still been a bit high at the time and hadn’t felt particularly guilty yet, at least not until she spelled the door shut and burst into tears.

Looking back now, he cringed at his utter lack of compassion. She’d asked if it were true, and he’d nodded, and then she’d asked raggedly, “Why?” He hadn’t had an answer at the time. He’d told her it didn’t mean anything, that he was sorry, but the Alipotsy had made it hard to be very serious about the matter. She forbade him from speaking to her again. Then she’d pulled out her wand, glared ineffectively at him through her tears, and informed him that he was very lucky she was a mature adult or he’d be missing crucial bits of his anatomy.

Given her speaking ban and his own cowardice, he hadn’t been able to make himself apologize again. When the Alipotsy wore off the next day, he’d realized while vomiting into a toilet that he had made a mistake. Laying in bed later, a cool cloth over his forehead, he’d told himself that she’d been overreacting. He knew she’d been hurt, obviously, but now he realized he’d vastly underestimated how much. Or rather, he’d known but had pretended not to because it was easier. Some Gryffindor he was.

His dad steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair “And?”

“What should I do?” James resisted throwing his hands in the air. “She’s done her N.E.W.T.s now and I won’t see her again except through careful planning.”

“Or chance.”

James rolled his eyes. “I prefer clever plans.”

“Schemes?”

“No! Why does everyone think I scheme? At worst I partake in shenanigans.”

“That sounds odd. Are you sure that’s a saying?”

“Can we focus?”

Oscar nodded for him to continue.

“So should I owl her or try to see her or just leave it?”

“You want to apologize—again—for cheating on her.”

“Well, yeah. My first apology was rubbish and I want to do it over.”

“If she saw you again,” Oscar asked thoughtfully, “would she hex you on sight?”

“Only if she saw me, oh, casually on the street.”

“You were an arse to her.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Her anger is completely warranted. But I want us to move past that. How do I get her to forgive me?”

Very seriously, Oscar said, “Get a Time-Turner and redo it.”

“I tried that already, but Algernon reached his fetching limits with the Department of Mysteries.”

“Pity.”

“Tell me about it,” said James. “But besides rewriting history, what else can I do?”

“A letter might not be amiss, one reiterating that you really do feel remorse now.”

“That does sound a lot more manageable than breaking into the Ministry of Magic.”

“Very likely.”

“It sounds almost too easy, in fact,” James said suspiciously.

“Don’t complicate this. You know what happens when you complicate things.”

“Things start on fire, I know,” James said, sighing. Would his father ever forgive him for his fifth birthday? Likely not. “What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

“That’s not up to you. You can only apologize, and mean it, and then it’s her decision.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“That’s life. Don’t complicate this and turn it into some scheme.”

“Shenanigans!”

Oscar gave him a look that said, ‘Why did I have a son again?’ James shot him his best ‘Because I’m brilliant smile,’ but his dad must have misread it. He leaned over his desk, propping his elbows on the desk and resting his head on his clasped hands. “You’re a bit of a lunatic sometimes, James,” he said. “But at least a well-intentioned one.”

\--

That evening Lily wrote in her diary again.

_I suppose some people might find funerals a nice source of closure, but they only upset me. I say my good-byes in private._

_Today I moved back into my parents’ house. I couldn’t stand to be around Emily’s family anymore. Her parents are cool but sleeping in Emily’s room without her there feels too much like replacing her. I can’t be their daughter. Now they have no children at home, but any week now Simon and Elizabeth will need them more than I do._

_Anyway, it makes sense to come home. I need to sort out my parents’ affairs. Petunia, cow that she is, left all the work for me. Since, you know, it’s my fault they died. I’ve got to sort through the things she left in the house and then sell it. How do you sell a house? I think they still had a mortgage on it. Can you still sell it if it has one? I think the bank has already listed me as the primary contact but I need to double check with the solicitor. I really need to check everything with him because I have no idea what I’m doing._

At least this time she’d actually responded to him directly. Maybe he wasn’t as hopeless at this as he’d thought.

_Your sister is a lunatic if she thinks you’re responsible for your parents’ deaths. I don’t know all the details, obviously, but I’m willing to bet that she’s overreacting. Her wedding will probably be rubbish anyway. She sounds like she has terrible taste. If you went, you’d probably have to wear an awful bridesmaid dress that made you look fat and ugly. Please, don’t blame yourself for your parents’ deaths._

_Also, I suspect you’re underestimating Emily’s parents. They might like comforting you. Obviously they like you enough to have you in their lives now and might be upset that they’ve lost you, too._

Hopefully that balanced silly and serious enough to make her feel better. The following evening she wrote back but ignored most of his comments about Emily’s parents.

_My parents had just dropped me off to go back to Hogwarts after Easter hols. A lorry driver didn’t stop for a red light and killed himself and my parents when they collided. He wasn’t a drink driver or anything. They don’t know why he didn’t stop and I’ll never know why my parents died. Petunia thinks that if I hadn’t gone to Hogwarts, they would still be alive. Which is in all probability true but it doesn’t make it my fault. I’m fully aware of that fact. She’s the mad one who casts blame about undeservedly._

_I’ll still see Emily’s parents when I go into work for them. It’s not like I’ve cut off contact or anything. They’ve got some friends running the bakery for a few weeks to let them sort themselves out._

James didn’t want to press her, particularly given his newfound revelation that he should aim for empathy and not specific advice. He wrote back a short note about how tragic it was that she would never know why her parents had died and left it at that, hoping she would write again soon.


	4. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

A few days after the funeral, James sat outside the garage on the grass. He was polishing his broomstick when a shadow fell over him.

“I looked it up.”

James looked up at Sirius’ face. “Looked what up?”

“The law.” Sirius sat down on the ground next to James. “And other related issues.”

“You’ll have to be clearer than that,” James said tersely. He was tired of having this conversation with Sirius.

“Look,” Sirius said in a low, strained voice. “I think…that I may have nearly really, really fucked up my life.”

James set down his broomstick and polish. “Really?” he asked, not daring to hope.

“Both Moony and I could have—well, it would have depended on how the court ruled because of the specific circumstances, but it wouldn’t have been good.” He grimaced. “Especially for Moony.”

“Exactly.”

“So I’m trying to say…I’m sorry. That I told Snape. I do hate him,” he said, “and I would love nothing more than for him to drop dead.”

“But not if it costs you your life?” James said. “Or Moony his?”

“Got it in one.”

“So you’ll apologize to Snape.”

Sirius looked at the ground and clenched his hands into fists. “Yeah. I won’t be happy about it, but if it’ll keep the both of us in Hogwarts, yeah, I’ll do it.”

“It won’t be that awful. Just a sorry, really, and you’re done. I’ll come with you if you want. Cloaked or visible.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“If it helps,” James said, “I’ve started writing a new apology to Isobel.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, intrigued.

“Yeah. I fucked up, too.” James grinned. “Look at us, mature adults. Taking responsibility.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Sirius said, mirroring James’ grin. “Do mature adults play Polish Pirate Poker?”

“They will once you turn of age, you child. Then only adults will play Polish Pirate Poker.”

“I suppose, Prongs.”

“Should we fire-call Moony and Wormtail and go celebrate?”

“Not yet.” Sirius’ smile fell. “I need to talk to Moony alone first, I think.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” James picked up his broomstick. “Well, go do that so we can all be on speaking terms, yeah?”

“I’m on it.” Sirius stood up. “And, you know, thanks. For talking sense into me.”

“Same to you,” James said. “That’s what mates are for.”

Sirius disappeared for a couple hours while James went flying and practiced throwing the Quaffle as much as he could without someone else present. He thought about fire-calling Peter but Peter had never shown much aptitude for hand-eye coordination. All he could think was how absolutely elated he was to have Sirius back in his proper role.

James vividly recalled the moment he’d heard from Peter what Sirius intended to do. Shock, betrayal, and outrage had become his immediate companions. Mostly he’d been petrified that Sirius would succeed. He could remember the enormous but short-lived wave of relief that had swept over him after he’d stopped Snape from going any further down the tunnel. And then, such anger. He’d shouted at Sirius for what felt like hours, and stormed off when Sirius only sat there, shoulders hunched and sullen.

Worst of all, James could remember not knowing who to turn to. His best mate was the person who seemed to have gone mad. He’d never felt so distant from Sirius, who could be cruel but was usually reasonable enough. Remus and Peter were his mates but they weren’t Sirius. As the days went by and Sirius hadn’t apologized, James became increasingly terrified that they would never heal the rift between them.

And now, with just one conversation, all was right with the world again. Well, several conversations, really, but James was trying not to count. Still, he’d got over his initial anger quite quickly.

Finally Sirius returned from his quest, triumphant.

“It’s all sorted out,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “We’re cool.”

James grinned. “That’s fantastic! We should all get together tomorrow after I finish at the shop.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ve got a certain substance in my room that would probably be illegal if the Ministry knew about it.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “Brilliant, Prongs. I thought we’d used up the last of our supply in April.”

“One of Roger’s regular customers has replenished my supply of pot,” James explained. “I plan to stock up before term starts so we’ll be set, and Alihotsy’s easy enough to get in Diagon Alley.”

Unfortunately James didn’t end up finishing work the next day until late afternoon. As soon as he Apparated home, he fire-called Remus and Peter to invite them over after dinner. Equipped with the necessary supplies, the four of them headed out into the fields behind James’ house. They stretched out on top of a hill, surrounded only by tree-lined fields, a handful of cows, and a slowly setting sun. Although the days were technically getting shorter, it wasn’t noticeable yet.

James pulled four Stilled pints of lager from the pub out of a satchel, removed his charmwork, and passed them around.

“A toast to James, for getting us here,” said Remus, raising his glass toward James.

“Here here,” said Peter.

They all drank deeply.

“For the record, James isn’t the only sage in the group,” Sirius said. He licked his lips clean of foam. “I made him realize what an arse he was to Isobel.”

“When did that happen?” asked Peter.

“I’m going to write a letter to her, properly apologizing,” James said. “Because I did such a rotten job in person.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Remus asked.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You can get a little…odd…when writing.”

“Rubbish!” James thought of all the things he’d written to Lily. Although he’d had a rough start, he felt proud of his more recent work. “I’m an excellent writer.”

“It’s not the quality,” Peter said. “It’s what you’re writing.”

“When have you lot ever read anything I’ve written to a girl?”

“We did find some of that poetry you wrote for Austine in fourth year,” Sirius said.

James felt his cheeks heat up a bit at the memory. “That was years ago. I’ve definitely improved.”

“Hard to get worse,” Sirius muttered.

Peter nodded.

“Besides,” said James, “I’m not writing her poetry. I’m writing her an apology. It’s completely different.”

Remus cocked his head. “Didn’t one of your poems apologize to Austine for the depth of your love?”

“Can’t believe you remember that level of detail,” James said under his breath. “I think you’re just making it up.”

“Oh yes,” Peter said. “’I have to say I’m sorry, my love moves as fast as a lorry.’”

James ducked his head but then abruptly sat up straight. “Who wants to get high?” he asked brightly.

Five minutes later they lay sprawled out on their backs, staring up at the half-lit sky.

“Merlin, I’ve been dying for some Alipotsy since term ended,” Sirius said. He took another drag of their joint and passed it to Remus.

“Padfoot,” James said, very mellow, “I’m so glad we’re not angry with you anymore.” He sighed happily. “Being angry is rubbish.”

“I’m tired of being angry,” Peter said dolefully. “No more fighting, okay?”

“Sounds excellent,” said Remus, passing the joint to Peter. “All peace all the time, all right?”

Peter inhaled and let out a long, slow breath. “Not quite. Helena is angry with me.”

“Why?” James said serenely. “You’re no slag.”

“You didn’t cheat on her, did you?” Sirius asked, although he sounded like he didn’t care either way.

“Noooooo,” said Peter, giggling. “She thinks you lot are bad company.”

“Oy!” said Sirius half-heartedly. He rolled over onto his side to stare at Peter. “You tell her that we’re the bloody Marauders and we’re the best bloody wizards in Hogwarts. _And_ we don’t cheat on our girlfriends!”

James coughed.

“Except James that one time,” Sirius said. “And he’s really, really sorry about it.”

“I ammmm,” James said. He took the joint from Peter. “Soooo sorry.”

“What are you going to tell Isobel?” asked Remus.

“Just that I’m soooorry. Not much else to say.”

“I suppose,” Remus said. “’Sorry I let Wendy Wilde touch my prick’ would be crass.”

“Exactly!” said James.

When Sirius and Peter got into a very calm argument about Helena Hodge’s attractiveness, James just lay there and focused on the cooling grass around him. Sirius tried to cast a Hurling Hex on Peter, but under Alipoty’s influence, the spell just made Peter’s head snap around and face the wrong direction. While Sirius laughed and Peter threw a very calm fit, James closed his eyes and smiled.

.x.

The following morning he read the entry Lily had written late at night while the Marauders had been recovering from their high. First, though, he downed an anti-nausea potion that he’d stored next to his bed. Merlin, he felt like shit. As great as Alipotsy was, it did have its downside. Even potions couldn’t cure the massive hangover he’d have all day.

_Being an adult is awful. I have to cook for myself and clean the house and do the shopping and take care of the garden. There’s so much work! I think most people get a soft transition but this has all been dumped in my lap all of a sudden and there’s so much to learn. I spent days trying to find the deed to the car (which is useless anyway because I don’t have a driving license)._

_Barry the solicitor says that my parents’ savings should be enough to cover the rest of the mortgage if I let their investments sit. He didn’t advise me to sell it or to keep it, but he said if I do want to sell it I should wait until I finish school. There are only a couple of months left until I go back to Hogwarts and I don’t want to deal with selling the house and our belongings right now. Besides, if I sold the house, where would I put all of my things during term?_

James realized he had no clue what would happen if his parents died. He assumed they had some sort of will and that he’d get the house and their money. Lily was considering selling her home, but unlike James’, he was willing to bet their house hadn’t been in the family for generations. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else as an adult.

Maybe he should ask his parents, he thought, but that seemed awfully morbid. Bringing it up would be uncomfortable, mostly because James hated the idea of his parents dying and even thinking about it made it seem more likely to happen.

He had no idea how to live on his own without his parents maintaining the house. He didn’t know how to cook or take care of plants or get rid of dust. Suddenly he was very annoyed with his parents for leaving him so utterly ill-equipped for his adult life. As much as he didn’t like to think about it, they would die someday and he would be as unprepared as Lily for dealing with everyday life.

What would he even do with his days after Hogwarts? He could get a job but they seemed to be a shit way to spend his time. His current job, which was also the only job he’d ever had, had put him off the whole concept of normal employment.

The longer he worked at his current job, the more he hated it. The work itself wasn’t difficult—putting items on shelves, sweeping floors, and the like—but his boss Roger liked to tell long, rambling stories that could last for hours, preventing James from getting his work done. This would have been all right if James received an hourly wage, but Roger paid him by the day.

Already depressed and still feeling like shit, James rolled out of bed to get ready for work. In the bath he mentally composed a response to write back later.

_It sounds like you’re doing an admirable job at being an adult, honestly. I’m sure you’re miles ahead of anyone else your age already, and at least you have the maturity to handle this transition without blowing up the house or anything. You might as well keep the house so you have a place to live while trying to sort your life out after your N.E.W.T.s._

_I thought you were going to find a new solicitor – Barry’s not very good, is he? Although I suppose some consistency during transition can’t hurt._

That morning at work was particularly trying. Roger’s stories kept James at work for an extra two hours, an awfully long amount of time when it felt like a Bludger was ricocheting around in his head. When James finally got home, he downed another potion and threw himself on his bed. Then he remembered he could whinge to Sirius again and stalked down to the garage, stopping along the way to send Algernon to fetch him a sandwich.

While James ranted for a bit, Sirius sat in his deck chair and feigned interest in James’ tirade while reading some stupid Russian novel.

“I can’t believe my mum made me get a job,” James grumbled, gently lowering himself into his deck chair. “I don’t need a bloody job. I’m perfectly responsible as it is.”

“That’s a load of bollocks and you know it,” Sirius said, not moving his eyes from his book.

“Just a bit.”

Sirius kept reading.

“Padfoot.”

He didn’t reply.

“ _Padfoot_.”

“What?” Sirius reluctantly dragged his attention back to James.

“Why should I have to have a job? I don’t need the money and I’m plenty responsible. It’s just ridiculous that I have to work.”

Sirius went back to his book. “Because your mum doesn’t want you hanging about the house all day.”

“That’s just hurtful, Sirius. Why must you tell such horrible lies?”

“It’s not a lie,” Sirius said. “She told me that.”

“What!”

“She likes to have some alone time.”

“Nine months out of the year I’m at Hogwarts. What more alone time does she need?”

Sirius shrugged.

“ _Alone_ time. What rubbish!” James pretended Sirius was still listening. “Maybe _she_ should get a bloody ‘normal’ job, instead of that researching rubbish where she gets to set her own hours and send _my_ cat to bring _her_ food.”

“She did.”

“What are you on about?”

“She told me she had a normal job once.”

“Why does my mother suddenly confide in you? I am her only son!”

“Because I’m not a lunatic.”

“You are so hurtful, Sirius, and I won’t stand for it.” When Sirius didn’t respond and kept reading, James grabbed the book out of his hands. “What the hell job did my mother get? I demand to know.”

Sirius glared and crossed his arms over his chest. “She thinks you’ll be very angry with her if you know. And it wasn’t intentional. It just happened.”

“Sirius Black, you’d better bloody tell me.”

Sirius sighed. “Fine,” he said, leaning back and linking his hands together behind his head. “She got elected bloody Prime Minister for Italy, if you must know.”

“You’re a riot,” James said flatly. “Really, though.”

“She didn’t mean to stand for office, but then she sort of was and she got elected.”

“That’s the stupidest lie you’ve ever told me. And that includes your explanation of that rash you developed last winter.”

Sirius sat up as straight as he could in a deck chair. “I’m not bloody lying. She got into a spot of trouble with the law, though, because she wasn’t a citizen or even a resident.”

“Wait a minute.” James narrowed his eyes. “Is this why we’re not allowed to go to Italy? She told me it was because we’re allergic to the air!”

“No,” Sirius drawled, “it’s because when they tried to take away her title she turned the very respected election official into a toad.”

James let his head fall back against the chair. “Typical,” he said. “When did this happen?”

“Like two years ago, I think. She was researching love potions or something.”

James took a moment to puzzle some things together and smiled. “And that would be why she bollixed up the love potion with Algernon. Yes, it does all make sense.”

“Oh, no,” Sirius said. “She just got distracted during that potion. She finished her research in Italy.”

James’ smile fell and he rubbed his palms over his eyes. “Why didn’t she want me to know? Because I’m angry that she lied to me?”

“No, because she got you banned from Italy and she knows how much you love the Italians.”

“I do love the Italians,” James said mournfully. “And now I’ll never get to visit them in their beautiful tree homes.”

Sirius stared at him. “Do you know anything about Italy?” he asked. “I mean, really?”

“Yes.” James lowered his hands and rested them, clasped, on his chest. “I read a book once.”

“And you’re sure it was about Italy.”

“Yes.” At Sirius’ raised eyebrows, he added, “Probably. Italy has jungles, right?”

“You are a fucking lunatic.”

.x.

Several days later the four Marauders met up at the pub in town for dinner. James had been coming here since he was a boy, often for meals with his parents at his own insistence. He loved that pub, with its dark wooden bar, smoky air, and, of course, its amazing chips. James knew the pub inside and out, and most of the patrons who’d watched him grow up.

He immediately spotted the intrusion to his haven.

Helena Hodge sat at his corner table, wearing a very tight, strapless yellow dress. Peter might as well have been sitting in her lap, he was so close to her, his arm wrapped around her bare shoulders. Sirius and Remus sat opposite them, one scowling, the other wearing a complacent smile.

James waved hesitantly at his mates and went to fetch himself a pint of lager from the bartender, Tim, a middle-aged ex-military man with a shaved head and incongruously small ears.

“Is she really with him?” Tim asked, pouring James his drink.

“Don’t worry, I don’t understand it either,” James said.

Pulling out his wallet, he remembered that she’d fancied him in fifth year. Then he remembered that he’d intentionally tried to forget that because she’d got weird about it. Really weird, even by James’ standards.

“Cheers,” James said. He tossed some pounds onto the bar and headed back to the table.

“Er, hi,” James told her when he approached.

“Hello, James,” she said, a bit prissily.

“So, Helena, what are you doing with your time this summer?” Remus asked.

She leaned forward. “Mother has me taking advanced Ancient Runes with a tutor this summer.”

“Is that so?” said Remus

“Yes. Are you in Runes?”

“James and Sirius are. I dropped it after O.W.L.s.”

“Haven’t seen you in classes,” Sirius said suspiciously.

“Oh, I finished seventh-year Runes before Hogwarts,” she said. “It’s our family business. We translate for witches and wizards all over Europe.”

To their credit, James thought, he and his mates managed to contain their surprise fairly effectively.

“That must be exciting,” Remus said.

James and Sirius exchanged an ostensibly neutral look that spoke volumes to any Marauder.

“Very much so,” Helena said. When she began swinging her feet back and forth, she accidentally kicked James. He frowned. Transfiguring her was probably unacceptable at this moment.

“What are you doing this summer?” James asked.

“Helping out at home, of course.”

“They’re doing this really old and rare translation for a university in Bulgaria,” Peter added, who seemed overly energized in James’ opinion.

“How interesting,” Sirius said. He’d opened up a menu and was holding it in front of his face.

James couldn’t see Helena without thinking of how she’d cheated on Peter. For weeks after, Peter had been inconsolable. And then as soon as she asked, he’d forgiven her. It was ridiculous and Peter deserved better. Now was probably not the best time to share his opinions on the matter, though.

For Peter’s sake, he shared a polite and very stilted conversation with Helena. Remus joined in and Sirius stared off into the distance, occasionally making rude comments.

After an hour, Peter seemed to have had enough. He nudged Helena playfully and asked if she wanted to do walk around a bit before he took her home.

The moment they were out of the pub, Sirius said loudly, “What a cow.”

“You’re one to talk,” James said. “What the fuck was that?”

“I could call her a lot worse, you know.”

“Well, don’t. At least not when she’s around, yeah?”

“I can’t believe he’s still with her.”

“It’s not our place to judge,” Remus said. “You could at least pretend to like her.”

“Why?” Sirius asked. “I’d rather Peter know exactly how I feel.”

James and Remus shared a resigned look. Sirius had a point, but his behavior still seemed unbearably rude to James. Remus and Sirius argued for a bit more but James got distracted by his ring tightening and stopped listening. He hoped another catastrophe hadn’t befallen Lily, but considering the universe really did seem to hate her right now, one wouldn’t seem out of place.

After parting with Remus, James and Sirius took the long way back to the Potter household and debated the merits of Obliviating Helena and sending her to Mongolia. Sirius walked James to the door but then went off to explore as Padfoot while James went to bed. With his bedroom door safely locked, James took out Lily’s diary.

_Today I listened to the White Album for three hours while lying on the sitting room floor._

_I remember when they released the album. Dad and I spent a month dancing around the house shouting the lyrics to Ob La Di, Ob La Dah. Mum would usually join in for Blackbird._

_Petunia frowned on this nonsense, of course. She hated Revolution 9. Hated it. I usually turned down the volume for that song until we got to Good Night, but if Petunia was around I’d turn it all the way up. Sometimes I could get her to join in for Julia, though. Our voices didn’t harmonize very well but it didn’t matter. _

_There are just so many memories in this house. I hate the thought of clearing things out. My parents’ things are all over the floor in their room. I tried to sort everything out on the bed, but I just ended up crawling under the sheets and wallowing in the smell of my parents. Only part of me felt like Terry Heaney._

_I feel so pathetic most days but I don’t know how to stop._

An inch below that, she’d written:

_Barry is rubbish but I’m too busy to find another solicitor. My parents always said he was very good. I’ve no idea why – he doesn’t seem to know much about law at all. I’m fairly sure some of the things I had to manage after they died were his responsibility but I didn’t know it at the time._

James assumed the White Album was by some Muggle group that had poor taste in album names. Although if Lily liked them that much, he suspected they wouldn’t be as terrible at making music. He lay back on his pillows to mull over what to write back. Finally, he wrote:

_I’m but a simple diary charm. What’s the White Album?_

_What you’re going through is perfectly normal. You’re not pathetic, you’re just grieving a set of significant losses. Are you sure you made the best choice in moving into your parents’ place? You do need to deal with the lingering issues from being on your own but maybe it would have been better to stay with Emily’s family. Her parents must know about cars and houses and things._

While James was at work the next day she wrote another entry. He skived off his self-imposed Quidditch practice schedule in the afternoon to read her entry, but it was quite short.

_The White Album is actually an album called The Beatles by the band The Beatles. They’re possibly the best band of all time. My parents have all of their records (a device for playing music)._

_It’s much better here than at Emily’s house. Here I can do as I please without people pestering me. Mostly. The neighbors have taken it upon themselves to keep me company some nights, but at the Wood home I would have company all the time and I don’t want that. Still, you raise a fair point. I forgot Olive used to be an estate agent._

James grinned. At long last, he seemed to have offered a piece of legitimate advice. It had only taken him nearly two months.

Finally providing sound advice seemed to encourage Lily to write more, too. She wrote again two days later.

_Now that I’ve listened to the White Album, I can’t stop. I couldn’t listen to it for months after their death. I’d turn off the radio if it played one of the songs. Today I spent the day cleaning the house inside and out and played it the whole time._

_Olive did have some useful guidance, by the way. She thinks the house is a solid asset that I should hold onto, so I shall._

_As much as I adore Olive and Stuart, working with them is difficult only because I miss Emily and they remind me of her. Then again, they probably feel similarly about me. At least the bakery gives me something to do most days besides sit around the house, depressed._

James wrote back confidently this time.

_Are they back to running the business themselves, then? I didn’t realize you’d started working again. It sounds like you’re making progress! I’m happy to hear that. Getting out of the house is one of the best things you can do._

He had no idea if that was true but it sounded nice and encouraging, which was good enough for him.

.x.

Emboldened by his success as the diary, James was determined to stop putting off his letter to Isobel. He’d written several drafts and ended up throwing them all in the fireplace. One draft became much too long, spanning two feet of parchment; another he’d written while high on Alipotsy, and he wasn’t able to decipher what it said the following morning. His fifth draft he’d actually liked, but then Algernon ate half of it and James couldn’t remember what the missing portion said.

Finally James finished a draft he thought would suit. It was brief enough but said more or less everything he thought he should convey.

_Dear Isobel,_

_I can only hope that you’ll read this letter and not set it on fire when you see who it’s from. Before you look down at the signature, let me say: I’m so very, very sorry! There, now you can look at the signature._

_Yes, it is me. I don’t want to bother you too much but I do want you to know this, so here goes. I was such a complete arse to you. You were a wonderful girlfriend—caring, gorgeous, brilliant—and I didn’t deserve you. Still don’t, actually. I feel genuinely awful about what I did to you and I don’t expect that you can ever forgive me. I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I thought about writing it out a thousand times but my dad said that quality was more important than quantity, so hopefully once more is enough._

_I’m so, so sorry._

_Very sincerely,_

_James Lancelot Potter_

He rolled up the letter, sealed it with his family signet ring, and walked into the post office in the town square. The postman inside recognized James as a wizard and Revealed the wall of owl cages behind him. James sent the letter off with an expedite owl and watched it fly over the church.

Of course, as soon as the bird was out of sight, James panicked. He should have had someone else read the letter first. What if his letter only provoked Isobel into actually attacking him? Or what if she was completely over him by now and didn’t care? Actually, that might be all right, he thought. Then she could just bin the letter and ignore him. But what if she didn’t write back? How would he know if she was too mad or too indifferent to write back?

Sighing, James Apparated home and hoped he’d made the right decision. There was nothing to do but wait.

 


	5. Dear Prudence

“Why did Roger fire you?” his mother asked, looking over her shoulder at him and holding the refrigerator door open.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” James deliberately shoved an unreasonable amount of roast beef in his mouth. He wished he hadn’t told his mother about it, but he couldn’t think of a better excuse for why he’d left for work, only to come right home.

She shut the refrigerator door and sat down across the kitchen table from him. Her mouth quirked when she noticed his avoidance technique. “Do you want me to turn him into a toad?”

“Wha?” James swallowed as much as possible. “No, that’s a complete overreaction.”

“I don’t think so.” She tapped a red-painted fingernail on the table. “Some people deserve some time as toads.”

James came to a terrible realization.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“What?”

“You.” He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. “I got it from _you_!”

“Hmm?”

“I turn people into goats! That’s from you – how did I never realize?”

“Of course you got that from me,” she said calmly. “Your father thinks it’s a barbaric habit, but I find it to be rather effective.”

“For most people, yeah, but not everyone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve turned Terry Heaney into a goat.”

“Perhaps you need to try a more distasteful animal.”

James’ eyes widened. “Is that why you kept giving me pet geckos and stealing them back a week later when I was a kid?”

She smirked.

“Merlin’s tit! That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, sit down. It’s not that shocking.”

“I respectfully disagree.” He threw his shoulders back. “No more, Mother. _No more_.” He marched out into the sitting room, only it would have been more dramatic if Algernon hadn’t run across his path and tripped him. Without looking back, he Apparated from his sprawled out position on the kitchen floor to outside the garage.

“Did you know my mother is a lunatic?” James half-shouted as he entered the garage.

“’Course.” Sirius wasn’t actually working on his bike, but instead lounging in his deck chair reading something with a Russian-looking name on it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We did,” Sirius said slowly. “We’ve all told you, at some point or another, that your mother is barking mad.”

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me!”

“You are indeed your mother’s son.”

“Not funny,” James said coolly. “Not funny even a little bit.”

“Well, you _are_ her son.”

“As it turns out, yes, I am!”

“Okay,” Sirius said, marking his page and setting his book aside. “You have completely lost me.”

“I turn people into goats!”

“And?”

“She turns people into toads and geckos and who knows what other reptiles.”

“Actually, toads are amphibians.”

James glared. “Not the point, Padfoot!”

“Then please, share. What is the point?”

“I’ve always hated that she never forgave anyone for anything. _Anything._ ” James ran a hand through his hair. “When I was eight I wet myself at this stupid event in France, and we got kicked out because of it and she never forgave me.”

“That is a little bit funny.”

Sometimes James didn’t know why he confided in Sirius, he really didn’t. “It’s apparently illegal to wet yourself in France, and she did not tolerate lawlessness.”

“Okay,” Sirius laughed. “That is actually really, really funny, but I still don’t see the point.”

“I don’t forgive either,” James said, as if it were obvious. “She’s bloody all but cursed me.”

Sirius cocked his head. “Very true. For instance, you never forgave your mother for poisoning Algernon.”

“No, instead I cursed her leopard-print heels to pinch her toes,” James lamented. “I’ve never forgiven anyone.” He Conjured another deck chair for himself and, instead of falling into it, fell onto it. He cursed, then righted himself and the collapsed chair. “Or at least, not that I can remember. I always just Transfigure them or something and then I forget about it.”

Sirius pondered this. “Did you ever forgive me for the Snape incident?”

“No, I didn’t.” James sighed. “How ridiculous.”

“Well, just do it now. Then you can say that you’ve forgiven at least one person.”

“Well, all right. You’re forgiven.”

“Thanks.”

There was a moment’s pause before James asked, “So, is that it?”

“Technically,” said Sirius, furrowing his brow. “Seems a bit trite. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal that you’ve never forgiven anyone so formally.”

“What was it like when Remus forgave you for breaking his trust?”

Sirius lay back and stared at the ceiling. “I told him I was sorry, and I meant it, and then he said, ‘I forgive you.’”

“But it wasn’t the same as what we just did.”

“No.”

They shared a significant look.

“We need Remus,” said Sirius.

James nodded. “But he’s tutoring. We could bring him ‘round tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?”

“No.” James crossed his arms over his chest. “Roger fired me.”

Sirius let out a low whistle. “What did you do this time?”

“Why do you assume I did anything? Maybe he’s just downsizing.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“ _I_ didn’t do anything! Algernon followed me to work because I _may_ have hexed him last night after he still wouldn’t fetch me a bacon sandwich, and _apparently_ it is unhygienic to have live animals in the meat storage room.”

“Your cat got you fired because he was angry with you.”

“That’s only a little bit funny,” James warned. “ _Barely_.”

“Much more than that, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I’m telling everyone.”

“I hate you.”

They fire-called Remus late the next morning to invite him over for breakfast. He came through immediately when they told him it was urgent. They all grabbed spelled-warm plates of toast, eggs and sausages from the kitchen and headed out to the garage.

“Have you told Sirius what you think you could do with his motorbike?” Remus asked, spreading jam on his toast. He’d taken one look at James’ and Sirius’ deck chairs and cleared some of the tools off of the stone bench instead.

“No,” James said, glaring. “It was supposed to be a birthday surprise.”

“What’s this?” Sirius asked, grinning through a mouthful of eggs. He swallowed and said, “I like the sound of a birthday surprise, particularly if it relates to my bike.”

“Confidential,” said James.

“Moony? Any hints?”

Remus shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ve already said too much, Padfoot.”

“Well, what _are_ we going to do for my birthday? Something spectacular, please.”

“Better than sneaking into your parents’ house, breaking you out of your room, and stealing you away for a day?” James asked.

“I would definitely count that as spectacular,” said Remus.

James smiled fondly. “I had that boil on my hand from your mother for a week.”

“You did make me miss my own birthday party,” Sirius said. “Well, my family one.”

“We’re more important than family,” said James. “We’re Marauders. “

Remus cleared his throat. “If I may, what was so urgent that I needed to come over immediately?”

“Well,” James said, “I realized I’ve never forgiven anyone.”

Remus hummed and tapped a finger on his chin. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I suppose you’re mostly right. And you do take any slight against you as a huge personal offense.”

“I don’t know that I’d go _that_ far,” James said.

“I would,” Sirius said cheerfully.

“Oh, shut it,” said James. “You’re not exactly the king of forgiveness yourself.”

“And I suppose now you’re going to go on some sort of forgiveness…spree, is that it?” Remus said.

“’Course not.” James rolled his eyes. “First I want to forgive Sirius. And maybe you and Peter. And my parents.”

“What do you have to forgive me and Peter for?” Remus asked.

“Oh, I dunno, but there must be something.”

“I still don’t understand why I have to be here for you to forgive Sirius.”

“Well, we tried it last night but it didn’t work,” Sirius said.

Remus stared at them blankly. “Is that why you asked me over?”

“Yeah,” said James. “I said I forgave him but we must have missed a step because nothing changed.”

“Of course it didn’t,” Remus said. “It’s more than the words.”

James summoned a quill and parchment. “What else is there?” he asked, settling the parchment over his knees.

Remus set his plate aside and stood up. “This just became too ridiculous.”

“Wait, you aren’t leaving, are you?” Sirius said. “We need you. Otherwise James will never forgive me.”

“I expect this sort of absurdity from James, but not you, too, Sirius. This household must be cursed.”

“Now _you’re_ being overdramatic,” said James. “Are you abandoning us in our hour of need?”

“What need? The need for mental assistance?”

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked.

Remus looked at both of them, then sat down again and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “I apologize. Today will be…very stressful.”

“Are those miscreant youths giving you shit?” asked James, already thinking of potential jinxes.

“No, no, they’re excellent. Ethan is finally making enough progress to learn with children his age,” Remus said proudly.

“You are an excellent teacher,” said James.

Sirius nodded.

“Well, thanks.” A faint blush stole over Remus’ face.

“If they’re not the problem, what is?” asked Sirius. “Parents? Neighbors? Another werewolf?”

“Nothing so domestic.” Remus hesitated before continuing, “I’m not sure I want to say.”

“You have to tell us what’s wrong,” said James. “We’re Marauders. We’ll fix it.”

“You can’t fix this issue. It’s a natural consequence of my own choices.”

“I promise not to Transfigure anyone,” James said. “My goat days are behind me.”

“The only person you’d have to Transfigure would be me, and I haven’t wronged anyone or anything.”

“You’ve said too much now _not_ to tell us,” Sirius pointed out.

“I suppose you’re right,” Remus said. “I’ve put off telling you.”

“Does Peter need to be here?” James asked.

“Er, no.” Remus looked away from them. “He already knows.”

“Well, that’s just unfair,” said Sirius.

“Get to it, Moony!” said James. “If Peter knows, we have to know, too.”

“I’m…in a play.” Remus wrung his hands together. “It opens tonight. Just a local production.”

Sirius and James quickly made eye contact and nodded at each other.

“One, that’s fantastic,” said James. “Two, we’ll be there.”

“Three, what the hell are you doing here?” added Sirius.

“I thought this was important!”

“It was, but you’re in a play!” said James.

“What play, by the way?” asked Sirius.

“Er, Hamlet.”

“And you are playing?”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut and said, “The titular character.”

“Perfect,” said Sirius, standing up.

“We’ll be there,” said James, following suit. “Peter will tell us what we need to know, yeah?”

They looked at Remus, waiting.

“Well, go!” said Sirius. “You’ve got rehearsal or something, yeah?”

“Something like that,” Remus said, looking a bit bewildered. He finally got to his feet. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“No faith in us at all,” Sirius complained.

“None whatsoever,” said James.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Remus said. “I’m off, then. See you tonight.” He Apparated out of the garage.

James and Sirius immediately sat down in their chairs, leaning in toward one another, to plot.

“We can’t ruin his opening night,” James started.

“That might be a bit much, yeah.”

“What does that leave us, then?”

“Taking him out after, getting him sloshed, and making him tell us embarrassing secrets.”

“A start. Something in his dressing room?”

“We don’t know that he has one,” Sirius said.

“True.” James frowned. “We also need to do something to Peter for not telling us!”

“So much to plan.”

They spent an hour concocting a few plans, each depending on how the night progressed, and fire-called Peter to find out the time and location. Peter pretended not to know what they were on about, quite convincingly, for several minutes before they persuaded him that Remus had invited them.

With the help of Remus’ parents, James, Sirius and Peter found their way to the community center that night. The theater only housed a few hundred seats, about half of which were already filled when they entered. They found faded blue seats together halfway toward the back, with James seated between Sirius and Peter.

“Can’t believe we almost missed this,” James muttered to Sirius. “Why didn’t he tell us? This is huge.”

“No idea,” Sirius whispered back. “Obviously we would support him.”

James looked over to Peter. “Oy, Wormtail,” he said quietly. “Why didn’t Moony want us to know?”

Peter leaned away from Remus’ parents, who were busy with their own conversation, towards James and Sirius. “He thought you’d take the piss about the whole idea.”

Sirius gave Peter and affronted look. “That’s rubbish.”

“Well,” James admitted, “not entirely.”

Sirius harrumphed. “Just a bit. A couple of jokes, is all. Probably.”

They fell silent as the house lights lowered and the curtain began to rise.

Although James was no theater expert, the beginning guard scene was a bit crap. It was a community theater but James had expected a bit more than half-arsed costumes and shoddy props. Two minutes in, one of the guard’s spear tips had fallen off, clattering loudly onto the stage. The guard kicked it over to the wings.

As soon as Remus appeared on stage, though, James froze. He barely recognized his friend. Everything was different. He knew it _was_ Remus, and yet it wasn’t.

When Remus finally spoke, James sat up straight. He and Sirius shared a quick look of surprise. Remus was already better than every other actor on the stage combined.

They sat riveted as Hamlet conversed with the ghost and later Ophelia. The ginger-haired girl playing her was all right but had no talent compared to Remus. James soon got so caught up in the story that he blinked in surprise when the curtain fell for interval after Polonius’ death.

“Wow,” said Peter.

Sirius let out a short, low whistle.

James looked over to Remus’ parents, both of whom were positively beaming with pride. All five of them exited to the lobby to stretch their legs.

“He’s always loved the theater,” Remus’ dad Stuart said, beaming. “We used to take him to shows all the time when he was much younger.”

“He begged us to take him to the West End, but it’s so expensive,” added Marjorie. “One year we saved up and took him to see A Midsummer’s Night Dream. He talked about it for months afterward.”

“He used to reenact small scenes in the garden with his toys.” Stuart smiled fondly.

“He’s never done a play before, has he?” asked James.

“No, he thought that his health condition would interfere,” Stuart said. “We told him there would be understudies but he refused.”

“What changed his mind?” asked Sirius.

“Remus was doing a dramatic reading for some of his students and the teacher—also the director—overheard, and he encouraged Remus to audition.” Stuart clapped Peter on the shoulder. “He still wouldn’t have done it if Peter hadn’t talked him into it.”

Peter ducked his head. “Didn’t take much convincing.”

During the second half, James teared up when Hamlet spoke after hearing about Ophelia’s death. After another two amazing acts, they all rose to their feet, applauding wildly, as the curtain fell. When it was Remus’ turn to take a bow, the crowd clapped and cheered for five solid minutes. Even from his seat, James could tell Remus’ face had gone beet red.

After the final bow, James and the others rushed out to the lobby to find Remus. After several minutes, the cast trickled out from around a corner, but Remus was nowhere to be found. When all the other actors and actresses had arrived to greet their friends and families, James and his mates began to share anxious looks.

Finally, Sirius announced that he would go find Remus. He returned after a few minutes, dragging a reluctant Remus by the arm.

“Hi,” Remus said meekly when he joined them.

Remus’ parents each gave him an enormous hug.

“We’re so proud of you,” Stuart said.

“You were amazing,” added Marjorie.

Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t terrible?”

“Remus, you were hands down better than everyone else combined,” James said.

Remus blushed. “I think that’s a bit of hyperbole. Laertes is quite good, and so is Horatio.”

“James isn’t exaggerating,” Peter said.

“He’s really not,” Sirius said. “We’re not just being your mates – you are unbelievably good.”

“I just look good because, er.” Remus hesitated. “Some of the actors could use some work,” he said delicately.

“Your friends are right, dear,” said Marjorie. “You have a fantastic gift. I’m just glad you finally got to use it.”

“Did you have a nice time?” asked Peter. “I mean, it’s only opening night, but all the same.”

Remus gave them a small smile. “Yes.” He looked down at his feet. “Thanks for pushing me to audition.”

Peter grinned. “Happy to do it.”

“Are you going out with the cast?” asked Stuart.

“Normally we would,” said Remus, “but most of the adults have work in the morning. We’ll probably go to the pub tomorrow night since only a few of them work on Saturday.”

“We’re taking him out for a pint tonight,” said Sirius. “Or a few.”

“Don’t get into too much trouble,” said Stuart. “Get a cab back if you’re too pissed to travel by Floo powder or Apparate. We’ve got a few Expanding Beds at home under the stairs that you can use.”

“Er, thanks,” said James.

“Nothing worse than Apparating drunk.” Marjorie tutted. “It’s just asking to lose a toe.”

James carefully avoided looking at his foot. He hoped she didn’t somehow know about his mishap.

“We would never be so irresponsible,” Sirius assured them. “Safety is our number one priority.”

“Of course.” Remus’ dad gave them a wry look. “We’ll leave you to it, then. See you in the morning. Fantastic job, Remus.”

Remus’ parents left and Remus headed backstage to change out of his costume. It took him fifteen minutes to get from his mates to the stage door, though, because of all the strangers that stopped to offer him their praise.

Finally Sirius escorted him away, announcing loudly that they had a pub to get to. With Remus back in normal garb, they headed out.

While Peter and Sirius fetched the first round, James told Remus, “I can’t believe you nearly didn’t invite us.”

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” said Remus, “and then it was easy to continue to not mention it. I knew you’d be angry that I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“We were,” said James. He spotted Sirius and Peter on their way back to the table. “But not anymore. It’s not that important.”

Remus looked at him and said, “I apologize for not inviting you earlier.”

“It’s all right,” said James, reaching for the pint offered by Sirius. “No harm done.”

“You do realize that that was you forgiving me.” Remus took a sip of the pint Peter had set in front of him.

“What’s this, then?” asked Sirius, sliding into his seat.

“James forgave me for not telling you about the play earlier.”

“Really? How?”

“By deciding it wasn’t worth it to be angry anymore,” said Remus. “It’s fairly simple.”

“Brilliant,” said James, cheered. “Glad my first time could be with you, Moony.”

“You do realize that now that you’ve forgiven me, you can’t get revenge.”

James sighed. “I suppose so. I’m not in the mood for it now anyway.”

“So much for our plans,” said Sirius. “We’ll save them for someone else.”

“Forgiving can be difficult,” Peter said. “I had to forgive Helena for cheating on me, but what we have is too special to throw away so casually.”

“You mean you didn’t get revenge for that?” James asked. This was inconceivable to him.

“No. I just thought about it and forgave her.”

“We got revenge for you, mate,” Sirius said. “You didn’t have to.”

Peter grimaced. “Neither of us appreciated that, by the way. The text ended up all over her perfect breasts.”

James choked on his drink. Sirius coughed and Remus sat very still.

“Things we don’t want to hear about,” Sirius said.

“Then you shouldn’t have written slag all over her,” Peter retorted.

Sirius and Peter continued to bicker, but James got lost in thought. Something had occurred to him but he didn’t want to discuss it openly. Later, when he and Remus went to buy the next round, James asked quietly, “Have you forgiven the werewolf that bit you?”

“No,” said Remus, a dark glint in his eye that James had never seen before. “And I can’t imagine that I ever will.”

_\--_

Despite James begging otherwise, his parents were forcing him to get another job. He sulked in his room for a day but they didn’t relent. Fortunately, he thought of a brilliant plan that would keep him unemployed for the rest of the summer. The next morning he snuck out of the house, Algernon fidgeting under his arm, and headed into town to ask around about jobs. The downside of this plan was that he had to go through being rejected again and again. Even though he didn’t really want a job, it still hurt to be told no.

He started with one small row of shops and made his way down the line. As James had learned earlier in the summer, nobody wanted to hire a lunatic with a cat. In the bookshop, the owner all but kicked him out. A white-haired, frail-looking woman outside watched him stumble through the door.

“All right, dearie?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said James, smiling but not entirely happy. “Just trying to find a job, is all.”

“Oh!” she said. “Do you like animals? That’s a lovely cat.”

James preened and held out Algernon with both hands towards the woman. “This is Algernon. I like most animals. Except dogs, anyway. Especially French dogs.”

She scratched Algernon behind the ears, and he purred. “What sort of work are you looking for?”

“Oh, anything, really.” James tucked Algernon back under one arm. His ring tightened and he made a mental note to read the diary later. “I’m not too torn up about my bad luck, though—”

“I can get you a job,” said the woman.

“Sorry?”

“My son owns the garage around the corner.” She grabbed James’ free arm and began to pull him forward with a strength he hadn’t expected from her. “He can give you a job.”

“Oh, that’s, er…lovely.” James reluctantly allowed the woman to drag him along for several feet before thinking of an excuse. “You know, I’ve actually got a lead down at Roger’s shop, so I might head there first.”

“Nonsense,” she said, holding firm. “My son is an excellent employer. Much better than Roger. That man never shuts up.”

Privately James agreed, although he was horrified at this turn of events. So much for his plan.

Now they were in front of the garage and he was meeting a burly, sullen man named Justin and then he had another job. He swore up a storm inside his head.

“Come round tomorrow ‘round two, yeah?” said Justin.

“Yeah,” James said despondently. “C’mon, Algernon.” His cat ran away from the old lady, who had told James to call her Enid, and trotted over to James.

Back home, Odette laughed when James told her where he had got a job.

“I know plenty of things about cars!” he protested. “Sirius has a motorbike and no one questions him about that.”

“Yes, but Sirius would never lose a job because his cat got angry with him,” she replied. “And he seems to understand Muggle technology better than you do.”

James had to admit she had a point. Still, he huffed and stormed off to the garage. Unfortunately, things did not improve in there. Sirius also laughed at him. James grabbed Algernon and Apparated to his room to sulk some more.

Lying on his bed, James remembered to check his diary.

_Tomorrow around ten I think I’ll head to Diagon Alley. I need to get my supplies, and it will be nice to be surrounded by magic again. Between working in a Muggle bakery and living in a Muggle neighborhood, I don’t get a lot of daily chances for magic. I can do magic legally at home now, but I’m still not entirely used to being allowed to do magic whenever I please. Besides, I don’t have much need for time-saving charms when all I have is time. I like doing dishes by hand so I have something to do._

_Continuing to work at the bakery may have been a mistake. All the regulars know Emily died—they think it was_ _Éira Nua—and have been acting kindly toward Olive and Stuart. Not to mention that everyone in my neighborhood knows my parents have died, so they sometimes stop by with food and give me pitying looks. I hate it._

_What I really want is for someone to treat me like I haven’t just lost everything. I have a hard enough time convincing myself that someday I won’t wake up sad, and that I’ll be able to go a day without missing someone terribly, but it’s hard to imagine. I’ve forgotten what my life was like before all of this._

Naturally, he headed to Diagon Alley the following morning. He walked from shop to shop, pretending to look in windows when really he was searching for ginger hair. After twenty minutes, he spotted her outside of Flourish and Blotts, staring into the store window. She looked tired, and had lost at least a stone since the funeral. He suspected that was partially because she was cooking for herself and partially because she was depressed. Although he half wanted to run away because he didn’t know what to do, he knew he had to go over. This was what she needed. If she wanted normality, he could be himself for her.

When she started to move away, James hurried over.

“Evans,” he said evenly.

She turned around, her face inscrutable. “Potter.”

Why hadn’t he planned ahead what to say? He had no good opening. He’d had hours to think this out but of course he hadn’t.

“What brings your stupid face to Diagon Alley?” she asked casually.

“Oh, er, you know. Shopping. And things. For Algernon.” He did not think he was doing well at normal. “What about your stupid face?” he asked.

“What about my face?” Lily asked, suppressing a smile. “Does it look like a bear?”

James sighed. He’d once told her he liked her hair but had mumbled too much. “No one is ever going to forget that.”

“No, they really won’t.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Why are you here today?”

She quirked her eyebrows at him. “Shopping. And things.”

James scrambled for a topic that wouldn’t belie how much he knew about Lily’s life at the moment. He ended up saying, “Algernon didn’t like his new nickname and he scratched me.”

She nodded. “Good for him. Algernon is a proper name for a cat.”

“He’s not much of an Algie, it’s true.”

“Then why did you start calling him that?”

“Dunno,” James admitted. “Change of pace, I suppose.”

“And how many times did you try to call him Algie?”

“Just the once.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, twice. Maybe three times.”

She laughed, and he cheered inside.

“Once it was in my head I couldn’t get it out!” he explained. “It was really hard _not_ calling him that.”

“Did he bite you?”

“No, he scratched me.” He lowered his voice. “Also he pissed on my bed.”

“You deserved it. Nicknames are rubbish.”

“Would you piss in my bed if I called you a nickname?” Immediately James realized what an idiot he was.

“That was strange, even for you. I honestly have no response to that.”

“Yeah, that was.... Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Fortunately she seemed mollified at his apology.

“Doing anything fun this summer?” James asked.

“Just working.”

“Me too. Where do you work?”

After a very brief pause, she asked, “Are we having a civil conversation?”

“Yes, but now that you’ve pointed it out, I suspect not for much longer.”

“I can call you a cad if it helps,” she said, smiling faintly.

“Yes, it does, actually.”

“Then where do you work, you cad?”

“In a shop.”

“Ah, yes, I know the one.”

“What?”

“Joking, you twat,” she said. “What kind of shop?”

“Well, now I work in a garage, actually. I worked in a grocer’s but Algernon followed me one day and they didn’t like that.”

“Where do you even get these ideas? Bringing a cat to work is one thing, but a grocer’s?”

“Algernon was getting revenge on me, actually. Obviously I can’t speak to where he gets his ideas from, but _my_ bad ideas just sort of pop up,” he said. “Part of me thinks, you know, James Lancelot Potter, maybe this is a bad idea. But then I do it anyway. Maybe he thinks similarly. How should I know?”

She scoffed. “Your middle name is not Lancelot.”            

“Is so. Ask my mates.”

“I don’t care if they think it is.” Her eyes lit up. “It’s something awful, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s Lancelot,” he insisted.

“Eugene?” she suggested. “Wolfgang?”

“Wolfgang is a great name!”

“Leroy?”

“Oh, that is an awful name. No,” said James. “It’s Lancelot. A perfectly respectable name.”

“Even if it were your middle name, it would still be terrible.”

“Remus is in a play,” he said, hoping to change the subject. “Hamlet. He’s bloody fantastic.”

Lily blinked. “I didn’t know he acted.”

“Neither did we. It was a complete shock when he told us, but you should go see it.”

“I’ll see if Mary wants to go,” she said. “Send me an owl with the details?”

“Of course! I’ll do it tonight. It’s only on for another two weeks,” said James. “Fair warning: most of the other actors are complete shit.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“I’ve seen it three times. It’s really not,” James assured her.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll still go on Remus’ behalf.”

“Thought so,” he said. He preened internally with the step forward he’d made, and sensed that his luck was about to veer in a negative direction if he didn’t stop talking.

“I’ve got to go,” James said. “I need to buy a leash for Algernon. He’s getting fat.”

“I’m surprised. Is he not fetching much these days?”

“He is, but…it’s complicated.”

“Right,” she said, nodding. “Cats are so strange about their weight.”

“I know! It’s a bit ridiculous.”

She laughed. “I was joking, but I don’t think you were.” She looked down at her watch. “I should go, too. Remember to send me an owl about Remus’ play.”

“I will,” he promised.

“See you later.” She walked off. James hoped that was everything she’d wanted in an encounter. He felt all right about it. At least it had been less awkward than talking to her at the funeral. Then again, he knew her much better now that she wrote in her diary at least once every couple of days.

She wrote to him again that night while he was writing a letter to her about Remus’ play.

_Robert wants to meet up every now and then to talk about Emily. Am I a terrible person for not wanting to do that? I mean, he lost his girlfriend. I know they’d been seeing each other for a year, but Emily and I have been best friends since second year! A best friend is for life, in theory. People our age rarely settle down with their current boyfriend or girlfriend for the rest of their lives. I suppose Emily and I never discussed it, but maybe they were going to get married. How should I know?_

James didn’t feel he had much experience in this area, as usual, but he tried to picture how Robert was feeling. It was strange and difficult. He bet Remus would have had a much easier time of it. James even tried to mimic Robert’s loping walk and low voice, talking out his supposed emotions. Algernon watched him throughout the process and laughed at James silently.

“Shut it,” he told Algernon. To Lily, he wrote:

_You can’t have Emily to yourself, you know. Other people miss her, too, and it might help them get over their grief if they know other people are going through the same thing. Does Robert see other people who are also missing her? If not, he might just be desperate to talk through some of his feelings with someone who actually knew her._

_You’re right that there’s not a great chance that they would’ve got married, but that’s not the point. She was important to him, too, and he needs someone to talk to. If you can be that person for him, then see him. If not, explain that it’s too much to talk about her with him._

While he was at work the next day, James felt his ring tighten. He was swamped with things to do for Justin, though, and didn’t get off work until late. Then he had to sit through dinner and his parents going on and on about how he needed to buckle down for his N.E.W.T.s so he didn’t have to work in a garage forever. James actually wouldn’t have minded working for Justin for a while but he sensed his parents didn’t want to hear that. Finally he convinced them that he would work really hard this year and shut himself in his room to read Lily’s entry.

_Robert did come over today. I offered him some of my too crumbly shortbread and felt a bit of a failure. Cooking and baking are in theory a lot like Potions but I’m struggling. I just don’t have the years of practicing my technique that I do in Potions. Anyway, it was all right having him over. We did commiserate about missing Emily. I didn’t realize how much he fancied her. Although he did speculate that Edwin Edwards fancied Emily, too, and was trying to steal her away, which is absurd. Edwin’s mad for Eira Hubbard. Still, it was not completely awful to spend an hour talking about Emily._

James smiled. His skill was definitely improving.

\--

On Wednesday, James woke up to his ring tightening. After allowing himself a few minutes of slowly becoming more conscious, he pulled out the diary and read.

_I’ve been made Head Girl! What I’m most proud of, though, is that I didn’t cry when I received the owl from Professor Dumbledore. My immediate instinct was that my parents would be so proud, but when I remembered they weren’t around to tell, I did not break down. I felt really awful, but there were no tears! Okay, there were minimal tears. Very, very minimal._

That wasn’t unexpected, really, James thought. Lily would make a fantastic Head Girl. As he rolled out of bed and wandered down into the kitchen, he mentally went through the checklist of who could be Head Boy. Remus would be a natural, of course, but had mentioned that he would never give himself that level of responsibility. Just as well, James thought, because having one of the Marauders as Head Boy would severely hamper their shenanigans.

Sirius and Oscar were already in the kitchen eating fried eggs. James sat down next to his dad and served himself using the plate left out for him.

“Post for you,” Oscar said, pushing a letter across the table.

James frowned. The only people who would write to him saw him all the time. Unless, he thought with horror, this was another funeral invitation. He ripped open the letter and read. When he saw the shiny silver badge inside, he gaped. He pulled out the letter and skimmed it.

“What?” Sirius asked. “Please tell me no one else is dead.”

“No, I…I’ve been made Head Boy.”

“Pull the other one,” said Sirius, going back to the _Prophet_.

“I’m serious.” James handed the letter to his dad, then pulled out the badge and stared at it. “Is Dumbledore mad? I mean, I’m plenty responsible, but I haven’t even been a prefect!”

Sirius set down the paper. “Merlin’s tit. Really, though?”

“Seems so,” said Oscar. “Fantastic!”

“Yeah?” asked James, wary. “Because I have some very large concerns about this.”

“Brilliant!” Sirius said. “We’ll be able to do exactly as we please! No more getting detentions when Polish Pirate Poker gets a bit destructive.”

“Polish what?” Oscar asked.

“Confidential,” James said quickly. He set down the badge on the table and poked at his egg with his fork. “Obviously I’m a great candidate on paper, but Lily Evans is Head Girl! She knows loads more than I do about this stuff. I’ll look a fool.”

“To be honest,” Sirius said, “you’re going to look a fool whether or not you’re Head Boy. If you’ve forgotten, you lost your job because your cat got revenge on you.”

“Algernon has inherited the Potter trait of unforgiveability,” James said sadly.

“See? Already you look a fool,” said Sirius. “What does it matter that Evans is Head? You’ll do the same job either way, since I expect she’ll hardly speak to you all year anyway.”

“She’ll speak to me,” James said defensively.

Sirius looked ready to get into a long argument about this, and James realized he had no rational explanation for why she would like more him now.

“Oh dear, look at the time,” James said, grabbing his fried egg with his hand. It felt disgusting in his hand. He decided never to do that again but had to carry through with the move for now. “I’ve got to get to work!” He darted out of the kitchen, shoving the egg in his mouth on the way.

James much preferred working for Justin to working for Roger. The pay was better, for one, and Justin left him alone to do his work. Mostly he tidied up and helped customers pay. Sometimes Justin sent him on errands to different shops to pick up parts. James liked the change of pace but hated how little he knew about the parts. He often had to spend several minutes describing the piece Justin had asked for because he had forgotten the part’s name.

When he returned home from work, he found a letter waiting for him on the kitchen table next to a spelled-warm plate of steak and kidney pie. He sat down in his usual seat and opened it.

_James,_

_I’m sure you’ve read your letter by now telling you that we are Head Boy and Girl this year. Congratulations on your appointment. I have to admit I was a bit surprised when I saw that you had been chosen, but I’m confident that with my help you won’t be a complete failure. I expect Remus to help keep you in line, too._

_Why don’t you come by my house on Tuesday to discuss how we’d like to approach our responsibilities? My address is below._

_Sincerely,_

_Lily Evans_

He set the letter aside and tucked in to his pie. He suspected his life was about to become much more complicated. Then again, spending so much time with Lily as Head Boy and Girl might benefit him. If he accidentally let something slip that revealed that he was the diary, he could just say that she’d told him in person and forgot that she’d done so.

He still wasn’t sure he was pleased about his appointment. On the one hand, he’d have a fair amount of power. He might be able to crack down on some of the Slytherins. On the other hand, he’d have to be a role model of behavior. Perhaps that was Dumbledore’s thinking: make James Head Boy and he’d have to follow all the rules during his final year at Hogwarts. Not to mention that with Lily as Head Girl, living in Gryffindor Tower with him, he wouldn’t even be able to abuse his power or act irresponsibly in his own House.

After finishing his meal, James went up to his room and penned back a quick reply agreeing to meet Lily at her house. He looked forward to not only seeing her again, but also the house he kept hearing about. Maybe he’d even get to hear The Beatles.

\--

The morning after the blue moon—the first full moon since Sirius had been reaccepted into the Marauders—James woke to a tapping at his window. He opened it to find a small brown owl with a letter waiting for him. He took the letter, shut the window, and sat down on the edge of his bed to read.

_James,_

_I was surprised to receive your owl. I don’t know what to write back. Maybe someday I can forgive you, but not yet. I’m moving to Argentina next week._

_Isobel_

He set the letter down, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and hung his head in his hands. He’d told himself that he didn’t really expect her to forgive him, but apparently he had. She was clearly still angry and hurt, and justifiably so, really. Part of him wanted to try some other tactic to get her forgiveness, but he couldn’t think of anything good.

Not to mention that she was leaving for Argentina. What was she going to do there? She must know he wanted to ask about why she was moving but now he couldn’t bloody well ask. Her letter all but said, ‘Don’t write to me again.’ And only part of that was because of her international location.

Despondent, he made his way downstairs and into his dad’s study.

“She’s still angry,” he moaned, pushing open the door. He quickly realized the room was empty and set off for the library instead. He found his parents sitting near the fireplace, speaking in low, tense voices.

“Er, Dad,” he said.

Odette whipped her wand out and pointed it at him. She smiled and lowered it when she saw it was just James. “Hello, dear.”

“D’you really think someone who calls him dad is a threat?” James asked, pointing at Oscar.

“Can’t be too careful these days,” she said primly.

“Er, yeah. Especially in your library. Very dangerous.”

She lifted her chin and picked up a book from the table next to her, something in a foreign language. Probably French. James hated the French.

“Dad, can we talk for a minute? Alone?”

“Of course.” His dad gave Odette a pointed look and walked with James back to the study. “What’s this all about then?” he asked, settling into his desk chair.

James threw himself into the chair opposite his father and immediately regretted it. The seat was quite hard. “It’s about Isobel again,” he said, hiding a wince. “I did send her an owl and she sent one back today.”

“Oh! This is the girl that you cheated on, right?”

“Yes,” James said in a low voice. “She didn’t forgive me, dad. She’s still angry with me.”

“That’s not too surprising, is it?”

“Not really. I just…hoped otherwise. Stupidly, it seems.”

Oscar shrugged. “You’ve done all you can do, James. You’ve taken responsibility for your actions and apologized properly.”

James sulked in his chair and told his father about Isobel’s impending move.

“It’s probably for a job or something,” Oscar said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But what if I’ve permanently hurt her so much that she has to move to the other side of the world to recuperate?” James asked, a bit more hysterically than he would have liked.

“That’s ridiculous. Argentina isn’t really on the other side of the world from here. Unless you’re thinking north-south hemispheres, in which case it is. Usually people think east-west, though.”

James rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want to feel awful about this anymore,” he said. “I’m tired of beating myself up about it. I know it was a stupid, terrible thing to do and I won’t do it again.”

“Then you have to let it go,” Oscar said. “That’s the only thing left.”

“What, that’s it?” James frowned. “That seems too easy.”

“James,” Oscar warned.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Forgive yourself.”

“Fine,” James muttered. “That should be easy enough.”

“It’s not,” Oscar said, “but try, all right?”

“All right.”

James left the study and went outside to go flying. Up in the air, he tried to forgive himself. It was as difficult as he’d expected. He sighed, then took a deep dive toward the ground, blood pounding in his ears. At the last second he pulled up and enjoyed the wind whipping through his hair. It would look really good after this, but even the thought of marvelous hair couldn’t cheer him up.


	6. Revolution I

August did not start out well for Lily.

_I had an absolute shit day at work today. This bloke I’d hoped to never see again out of shame came in and recognized me._

_The thing is, last summer Emily and I used to go to this café near her house for tea. There was this tall, exceptionally fit bloke around our age who worked there. He had gorgeous hair, although he also had an awful moustache._

_He liked to flirt with me and I’d flirt back, only I was a bit rubbish at it. He always gave us free drinks, which is really why we kept going back. I didn’t fancy him, really. I just liked to look at him. He wasn’t actually all that funny but I laughed at his jokes anyway. I felt terrible about it because I led him on too much. He ended up asking for my telephone number but since I didn’t fancy him I gave him an invented one and then Emily and I could never go back to the café._

_Working in the same town as him meant I was bound to run into him again. I suppose I just hoped it wouldn’t happen at all, or if it did, that I would be in a position to run. Of course, I should have known that the universe hates me and that he’d come in for a baguette on the day I was serving customers and Olive was too busy with the dinner rolls to come save me._

_He didn’t say anything. He just pretended we didn’t know each other, thank God. I’d forgotten about the whole incident until I spotted him. I felt like shit about it last summer and now I do again. Dear world, please realize there is only so much I can take._

James lay back in bed, hands linked behind his head and the diary laying page down on his chest. He hadn’t pictured Lily as the sort of bird to flirt shamelessly, but it did sound like an unusual occurrence in her life from the entry. Still, he had a hard time visualizing her sitting in a café and laughing at stupid jokes. She never laughed at James’ stupid jokes. Instead she laughed at him. He frowned and wrote back:

_If I understand this correctly, you flirted with a bloke for free tea and gave him a fake telephone number. In the grand scheme of things, that is a petty offense. You were young and stupid then, just like you’ll look back a year from now and think how young and stupid you are now. People have done loads worse than harmless flirting. Sometimes you need to learn to forgive yourself. One mistake doesn’t make you a terrible person. It makes you human._

The following morning he found another entry in Lily’s diary. He supposed she’d written it early that morning before heading to the bakery and he’d slept through his ring charm.

_That’s the problem. How can I forgive myself? I’m rubbish at forgiving others, much less myself. I’m still angry with my parents for getting in that car crash and with Emily for going to work that day. It’s completely stupid, I know, but I can’t stop how I feel._

_Do you know, Emily has been dead a month and the Ministry has done nothing. It’s unbelievable. You-Know-Who and his stupid sodding Death Eaters get away with everything. What kind of a government do we have?_

He confidently wrote back:

_You know who to blame for your parents’ death – the lorry driver. And he’s dead, so he’s already paid the highest price. And as for Emily, you can’t blame her for dying. She didn’t do anything wrong. What you should do is blame the Death Eaters. They’re the ones who killed her. You’re even in a position to do something about them as Head Girl, I would imagine. If the government can’t fulfill its most basic function and protect you, you’ve got to fill in the gaps._

_You can still be angry with Emily and your parents, a bit, but forgiving means you’re willing to move on and not let it be important anymore. Would you rather remember them fondly or irately?_

_Maybe you should consider apologizing to that bloke. It might make you feel better when he forgives you (which I’m confident he will)._

Humming, he got dressed and strolled down to the kitchen. That afternoon he would get to see Lily in person, which was infinitely better than writing to her.

He passed the morning tossing the Quaffle back and forth with Sirius, but wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings until he Apparated to Lily’s house after lunch.

“What did you think of the play?” James asked her when she answered the door.

“First, hello,” she said, standing aside to let him in.

“Hi!”

“I’m sorry to say that you were right.” She showed him to the sitting room and invited him to sit down on an orange loveseat while she sat in an avocado-colored wingback across from him. “Most of the actors were shit, but Remus – I don’t know what to say! He could be a professional.”

“Hardly thinks that himself, I’m sorry to say.”

“I know. After the show we tracked him down backstage.”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “Should have warned you that he hides unless he knows we’re out there waiting. We make him graciously accept compliments from the audience.”

She laughed. “He was surprised to see us but I think happy. He must know he’s good – the theater was turning away people without pre-purchased tickets. Thanks for those, by the way.”

“No worries. They sold out of tickets after a couple of weeks of nothing but rave reviews. I’ve still got two more for the final night on Saturday.”

“You lucky sod.”

James had an idea and, after a second of hesitation, decided to go through with it. “Would you like to come with me? Peter can’t make it and Sirius is tired of seeing it.”

“How can he be tired of seeing it? It’s fantastic!”

“Haven’t the foggiest.”

“Er, yes, I’d love to see it again,” she said. “As Co-Heads.”

“Of course,” James said, smoother than he felt.

“Lovely. Is that next Sunday?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you at the theater?” James couldn’t believe his luck.

“All right. Thank you. I can pay you back for the tickets.”

“No, please,” he said. “I’m not the one living on my own. My parents paid for them.”

“I thought you had landed a job in a garage, which I assume you are unqualified for.”

“I have a job—which I am perfectly qualified for, by the way, I’ve no idea why everyone thinks _I_ can’t work in a garage—but they put most of the money in Gringotts for me. For later.”

A small wooden clock chimed on the wall.

“Shall we discuss Head business, then?” she asked.

“Yeah, suppose so. Where do you want to start?”

She suddenly looked over to the kitchen. “Oh, shit. I’m a terrible hostess. Would you like some tea or something? I tried to make shortbread but it turned out a bit funny.”

“That sounds great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all.” Lily grabbed her wand from the coffee table and waved it at the kitchen. James secretly admired her nonverbal skills. He was pants at them, particularly household charms that he knew would be useful later in life but couldn’t be bothered to practice.

“That should be done soon,” she said, turning back to James and setting her wand down on the table. “It’s strange to be able to use magic at home, now that I’m of age.”

James took out a quill and parchment from his school bag. “I suppose it’s not as odd to me. I’ve been dying to do it legally for years.”

“Legally?” She picked up her own quill from next to her wand, leaving the parchment on the table.

“That is to say, I would never dream of flouting the laws against underage magic.”

“Of course. You have always respected rules and regulations above all else.” She smiled. “You’re lucky you don’t get an official warning own from the Ministry when you break it.”

James gave her an approving look. “Why, Miss Evans. You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“Oh, no,” she said airily. “Just something I heard from a friend. I forget which one.”

A silver tray with a kettle, two cups and a small plate of biscuits floated in from the kitchen to sit on the coffee table. The kettle levitated and paused, poised to pour tea.

“Sugar or cream?” asked Lily.

“Sugar, thanks. Just a bit.”

A spoonful of sugar levitated from the small porcelain bowl to add a bit to both cups before the kettle poured the tea.

“Thanks,” said James, grabbing his cup. He took a sip and smiled. “Perfect.”

“So, business,” said Lily, holding her cup on one hand and her quill in the other. “How should we schedule prefect rounds?”

James was glad he’d thought about a few topics in advance, although it quickly became clear that her experience as a prefect gave her a lot more knowledge about the specific responsibilities of Head Boy and Girl.

Still, James knew enough about Hogwarts, and he'd had plenty of experience interacting with prefects and Heads as the offender, to at least have an opinion on most issues.

After deciding how to train new prefects—there was barely any at the moment, according to Lily, which led to inconsistent enforcement that begged for a mentor system—they decided to take a break.

James polished off a piece of shortbread while Lily used the loo. He spotted what he vaguely recognized from Peter’s house as some sort of music device. He walked over to it and pushed a few buttons until the round bit began to move. James jumped back in surprise as voices sang out from the machine, harmonizing about all the lonely people. He reveled in his mastery of Muggle technology and sat back down, listening intently. He’d never heard anything like this song before.

Lily soon walked into the sitting room, frowning a bit. “I didn’t know you liked The Beatles.”

He grabbed another bit of shortbread. “Is this them? They’re really good.”

“That they are.”

“Aren’t you impressed I got it to play?”

“Er, no. It’s just a record player.”

“Oh,” said James, deflated.

“We can listen to a couple more songs if you like,” she offered, sitting back down in her chair.

“Yeah! I mean, if that’s all right.”

“I love The Beatles. Of course I’ll listen to them.”

Another song came on, this one about sleeping. Rather than staring around the room awkwardly, James grabbed a spare bit of parchment and began to sketch small drawings based on some of the more colorful lyrics. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Lily was watching intently, and angled his hand to give her a better view of his work.

After he finished a sketch of what he believed a submarine looked like—Lily had tried to explain and he thought he understood perfectly—Lily walked over to the music machine and turned it off. “We should get some more work done. Then we can listen again, if you like.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They didn’t talk for too much longer, though. James became desperate to hear more and all but begged Lily to turn the music machine back on. She acquiesced and several more songs played. At one point she had to flip the disc over but more songs played.

“This is Revolver,” she said. “Their seventh album.”

They listened for another fifteen minutes or so before the album ended. James looked up at Lily, beaming.

“They are brilliant!” he said, setting down his quill. “I wish I could play these at home but we don’t have one of those music-box-things.”

“I doubt it would work with all the magic in your house,” said Lily.

“I’ll just have to come back here and make you play more of their music for me,” he said lightly.

“We do have more planning to do.”

“There you have it. I’ll come back another day. Your shortbread was lovely, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks. Why don’t you come round on Sunday at the same time? I’ll play you another album.”

“Fantastic.” James packed away his belongings in his bag. “I’ll see you then.”

\--

Two days later, James and Sirius walked into town to meet Remus and Peter at the pub. James wished they could go elsewhere for once but it was the easiest place for Sirius to get to besides the Leaky Cauldron, and Peter hated the food at the Leaky. Over a basket of chips and a pint, Remus recounted some stories from backstage. He suddenly turned a faint shade of red.

“An agent approached me after the show last night,” he said. “He thinks I’m very talented.”

“You are exceptionally talented,” said James.

“He’s got good taste,” Peter said.

Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “He gave me his card in case I was interested.”

“Ring him up,” said Peter. “No harm in seeing what he has to say.”

“It’s just…. I need to take my N.E.W.T.s still, and then, I don't know, I assumed I’d get a job or something.”

“Acting is a job,” Peter pointed out.

“James? Sirius? Your thoughts?”

“After N.E.W.T.s,” James said cautiously, “I thought I’d see what I could do to stop the Death Eaters.”

“Same,” said Sirius. “Anyone my parents like as much as they like him can’t be allowed to continue living, much less killing.”

“That sounds dangerous,” said Peter.

“But potentially worth the risk,” countered Remus. “He does seem to dislike half-bloods like us, as evidenced by his murdering habits.”

“If you disagree with him, you have to fight,” said James. “Or be a coward, and guilty of abetting murder.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Remus said. “We’re not doing anything right now, in case it slipped your mind.”

“Only because we’re in school. Lily and I met and we’re—well, I am, but I think she is, too—fed up with Dumbledore’s non-interference policy. We want to take a stronger stance.”

“How?” asked Sirius.

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” James confessed. “We know who the Dark students are but unless they’re caught in the act we have no proof.”

“And you need Dumbledore’s assistance and permission to enact any new policies,” Remus said.

“I know. But this is my one idea,” James said. “Lily has loads of good ideas for being Head Boy and Girl and I’ve got this one idea, and it’s not even a real plan. Just an idea.”

“I’m sure she has her own ideas,” Peter said.

“I’d like to flesh it out myself if possible. I need to pull my own weight, you know?” James took a deep sip of his drink. “As you all well know, my experience has been on the other side of authority.”

“Are you going to be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain?” Remus asked. “I imagine filling both roles at once would stretch you a bit thin.”

He hadn’t made up his mind, not until that moment, but suddenly it seemed quite clear to him what he needed to do.

“I’ll still play Chaser, without question, but I’m going to write to McGonagall and tell her to find another captain.”

“So responsible,” Sirius mocked.

“Well, yeah. I am,” said James. “Trying to be. Dumbledore trusts me, apparently.”

“You should adjust the patrol routes,” Remus suggested. “Vera always made sure to divert prefects from the west corridor on the fifth floor so she and Graham could snog.”

“Noted.” James grimaced. “So, Moony the prefect, tell me what other ideas you have.”

\--

“I’m still a bit shocked that Dumbledore made you Head Boy,” said Lily, taking her seat. This time they’d shown up extra early to get the best seats in the theater.

“I impressed him, I think,” James said. “In May.”

“When you saved Severus’ life?”

“Er, yeah,” said James, taken aback. “You know about that?”

“I heard, yes.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “How can you still be friends with Sirius after what he did?”

“I made him come to his senses this summer,” James explained. “He knows he shouldn’t have done it now. He’s going to apologize to Snape when term starts.”

“I just don’t think I could have forgiven him for that,” Lily said. “It was too much.”

“It took a while to forgive him, but our friendship was more important than hating him forever for one mistake.”

“A huge mistake.”

“Yeah, but…we’re mates. We forgive one another.”

“Well, in any case, thank you for saving Severus.”

James ran a hand through his hair. “Er, it wasn’t really saving,” he said. “It was just, I dunno, the right thing to do.”

“All the same. He and I might not be friends anymore but I still—don’t want him to die, you know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” James said quietly.

The house lights fell and James leaned forward in his seat. As usual, Remus delivered a stunning performance. If it was possible, James thought Polonius had actually got worse since the first show. While he completely oversold his death, and Lily and James shared a mutual look of pain. During interval, he worked up the nerve to ask what he’d been musing on for the first half.

“D’you want to get a drink after the show?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual voice. “Remus is going out with the other actors to some restaurant, but we usually go to the nearest pub.”

“Well, I don’t have to work tomorrow,” she said. “So, yeah. I suppose so.”

Internally he cheered. After they savored Remus’ performance in the fifth act and congratulated him profusely in the lobby, James proudly walked her out the door and to the pub. More than ever he was glad that he’d stopped Sirius’ plan to kill Snape. Scheme, rather. If there was ever a scheme, he thought, that was it. Lily’s good opinion—so rarely bestowed on James—meant the world to him.

And then he remembered that he was deceiving her every day and that someday that would come to light and she would hate him again. He put it out of his mind for the time being.

At the pub he bought a pint for himself and a glass of wine for Lily.

“How did you get these?” she asked. “You’re not eighteen.”

“Peter made us some Muggle card that says we are,” he explained. “Dead useful.”

“I’m stunned and appalled to hear that your group skirts on the wrong side of the law,” she said. “I would never have guessed.”

James winked at her and pulled out the card Peter had created to show her. She laughed when she read it.

“Ferdinand Dumbledore?” she said. “You’re a lunatic.”

“It’s an excellent name, I’ll have you know. It sounds very manly.”

“It sounds very ridiculous. They serve you spirits with that patently false card?”

“It may have a few additional charms that I added,” James confessed.

“You scoundrel.”

“Did you know Peter is back together with Helena Hodge? Talk about scoundrels.”

“Peter?”

“Helena.”

“Didn’t she cheat on him with Terry Heaney?”

“She did and he took her back,” he said, annoyed even thinking about it.

“I’m very, very sorry to hear that.”

“So am I,” said James. “He brings her around sometimes and it’s painful.”

“Well, she is very annoying,” Lily conceded.

James leaned across the table and told her, “She flirts with other blokes at the bar when he’s in the loo.”

“Oh dear,” said Lily. She took a deep sip of wine.

“And did you know she is a genius at runes?”

“You’re making this up as you go along, you liar.”

“Am not.” James ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “She finished N.E.W.T. level Ancient Runes before Hogwarts.”

“Please tell me you’re making this up.”

“No! She did!”

“I would never have guessed.”

“I could hardly believe it myself.”

Lily mused, “She spends so much energy trying to attract blokes and then being terrible to them.”

“Who knows why.”

“What do you lot do when she’s around?” Lily asked. “Why would she keep coming with if she knew you didn’t like her?”

“Er, we try to keep things normal.”

“I’m sure that works out perfectly.”

“Shut up, it does.” James kicked her shin lightly under the table. “It’s just really, really boring because we can’t talk about the things we want to talk about.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, I dunno,” James said. “Quidditch. Motorbikes. Trying to invent spells that will make disgusting food taste good. Just…things.”

“So what do you talk about with her?”

“Nothing at all, really. The weather and classes and trivial shit.”

Lily nodded deeply. “Whereas motorbike discussions are quite serious.”

“They are, though!” James protested. “Sirius bought one and we’re going to make it fly.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you, now?”

“Yeah!” James said, annoyed at her lack of faith. “We will. And it’ll work, too.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said drily.

“You don’t even know—how—crap,” said James. He couldn’t really give away all the really cool magical things they’d done. He ended up saying, “We’ve done better already.”

“Like when Sirius got that rash and you cured it?” She was far too amused by this conversation.

“No! Loads better than that,” he said. “I just can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a secret, of course. Well, multiple secrets.”

“Anything illegal? Well, anything else.”

James had to think about that. “Mostly no. Just…secret Marauder dealings.”

“I see.”

A wonderful idea came to James. “I wonder if we couldn’t use the motorbike to run over Helena.”

Lily laughed. “That’s one way to solve your problem.”

“Yeah. Too bad that’s definitely illegal.”

“Or, you know, you could be happy for Peter.”

“He can do better, though!”

“Probably,” Lily agreed. “It’s his choice, though. Not yours.”

“I suppose,” James said darkly. “I just wish he wouldn’t bring her along all the bloody time.”

“He wants you to get along and you’re not helping.”

“At least I’m not exceptionally rude like Sirius.”

“I’m sure you’re the picture of politeness.”

“I am,” James insisted. “Perfectly lovely.”

“You think Peter can’t tell you’re not really happy?”

“Well….”

James had to admit that Peter never seemed particularly pleased, even when James was putting on airs of liking Helena.

“He can,” she told him. “Try to actually be happy, will you? Or he might pick her over you.”

James stared at her. “Don’t even suggest that. No one leaves the Marauders.”

“Of course not,” she said. “My mistake.”

\--

As James was on the verge of falling asleep one night, his ring tightened. He debated ignoring it but instead pulled out the diary and watched as Lily wrote.

_Severus came by today. I don’t think he’s living at home anymore, and he didn’t say where he was staying. I assume with some of his Dark friends. He apologized for missing Emily’s funeral. Like he cares that she’s dead. She’s a Mudblood like me, or at least not pure enough for his hypocritical standards._

_I didn’t say much back. I’ve made it perfectly clear where we stand, and I’ve heard everything he’s said before. We used to be friends—best friends—but some mistakes are unforgiveable._

James took a few minutes to consider his response. He didn’t know too much about her relationship with Snape—just that they used to be close and grew up together—but now seemed like a good opportunity to learn. He wrote:

_What did he do that was so unforgiveable?_

Other than that, though, James was torn. Obviously Lily shouldn’t forgive Snape, regardless of what he’d done, but his own words from that afternoon plagued him. He added:

_Friends—good friends—can be hard to come by. Unless they’ve tried to kill you. That is probably unforgiveable, assuming it was intentional._

To his surprise, he watched her handwriting fade onto the page again. He’d forgot that his ring still sat tight around his finger.

_He decided we couldn’t publicly be friends. Not to mention that his new friends would love to kill me. They either helped kill Emily or approved of her demise. He chose them over me. I’d say that’s bloody unforgiveable._

Really, James shouldn’t have been surprised that that was it. Not that Snape’s error wasn’t enormous, but James had wondered if something less publicly known had transpired. Even James had heard Snape call Lily a Mudblood. He sighed in relief that it was a large enough dispute to justify telling her to avoid Snape.

_Close enough to killing you, I think. It sounds like you made the right choice in cutting him out of your life. Still, it’s always tragic when good friendships fall apart._

That should be sufficiently neutral and supportive, he thought. He smiled to himself when more of her handwriting appeared. They were having a proper diary conversation, for once, and it wasn’t the disaster he’d assumed it would be.

Lily wrote back:

_Very true. I normally stand by my friends but I do find it difficult to forgive people. I thought after Sev went evil, I wouldn’t have another best friend. But I did. Emily came along and we were so close and now she’s gone, too, permanently. At least she’s not around to call me nasty names. So I have to hope that someday I’ll have another best friend, painful as it is to think about not having Emily there anymore._

Having nearly lost his best mate so recently, James had a lot of sympathy for this sentiment. At least he’d had the chance to re-befriend Sirius – Lily didn’t have that option. She would have to find another close friend. Eventually. And probably. He supposed she could do without but that sounded awful in the long term. If nothing else, James celebrated that he could use his own experience for once instead of hoping that what he said made sense.

_Losing your best mate is one of the worst things that can happen. Unlike boyfriends and girlfriends, they are supposed to be there forever, or at least a very, very long time. I’m not surprised you’re having such an awful time of it. You have every reason to be. You just need to hold out and know that it will hurt less with time. You can exist without a best friend. Some day you might find someone you’d like to fill that role again but for now you can do without.   _

She wrote:

_It’s impossible to think of someone else filling that role. I love Mary—she comes by once a week and we have wine night —but it’s not the same. We haven’t had the same experiences together. We don’t have the same or nearly as many jokes._

_Maybe someday, though._

\--

In the morning, James couldn’t keep a smile off his face. This became problematic when he grinned with milk in his mouth and it leaked out the sides.

His mother, the only other one up, narrowed her eyes at James from across the table.

“Whatever happened to that girl, Rhododendron?” she asked slyly.

James rolled his eyes and wiped the milk off his chin. “Lily, Mum. Lily Evans.”

“Sure. The flower.”

“Don’t call her that,” James said, bristling but still grinning like a fool. “It sounds asinine.”

“ Don’t use such foul language, James Potter, or I’ll be forced to use your middle name in front of Sirius.”

James clamped his mouth shut.

She set her toast down on her plate. “As I recall, you fancied her quite a bit.”

“Yes,” James said slowly. He wanted to lie because who knew what she would do with the information, but he could never lie successfully to his mother. “I may have and may still, in fact, fancy her.”

Odette raised her eyebrows knowingly. “You’re mid-shenanigan.”

“ _Thank you_ for using the proper term.”

“What other term is there?”

“I can’t recall but I know people have insisted on using other terms.”

“What sort of shenaniganery are you up to, exactly? Your dear old mum needs excitement in her life.”

James swallowed loudly. He really hated trying to lie to her but he didn’t have an alternative. “Nothing, Mum. Nothing at all. I’m surprised you think me capable of deceiving the woman I supposedly fancy.”

“You rotten little liar.”

“Honestly,” he tried. “I’m wooing her using completely normal methods.”

“Even if that were true, that never works. Shenanigans are the way to go. That’s how I got your dad. If it hadn’t been for that horse—”

“Er, look at the time,” James interrupted. “Algernon needs a walk. Bye, Mum!”

He’d successfully avoided this story for years because he had strong reason to believe it was nothing he wanted to know. Once she’d told the story of how she’d become pregnant at such an advanced age and James still shuddered at the thought of it. In most cases, he was better off not knowing his mum’s history.


	7. Happiness Is a Warm Gun

Between spending time with his mates, his job, walking Algernon, writing to Lily, and seeing Lily, the rest of James’ summer flew by. Without question, the highlight of any was spending time with Lily in person. Every few days he visited her, ostensibly to plan for term. In effect, they usually spent most of their time listening to The Beatles and talking about people they knew. One time he brought Algernon along, which had ended poorly for Lily’s furniture. Apparently his cat had no musical taste.

“What are we listening to today?” he asked Lily, taking a seat on her sofa.

“Their fifth album, Help. With an exclamation point.”

“Is that very important, the punctuation?”

“I’d argue punctuation is always crucial, but I’m not surprised to learn you disagree.”

She set a record onto the music box, pressed some buttons, and sat down opposite James. When the first song, started, though, James began to tap his foot and bounce around a bit in his seat. Sitting still and listening to the song seemed ridiculous. It was begging for dancing. Lily probably wouldn’t dance with him but he didn’t intend to let that stop him. Besides, it would probably make her laugh, so that alone was worth it. He stood up and started swaying about and shaking his hips.

After a moment of shock, she did begin to laugh at him.

“You look like a drunk chicken,” she said, holding her stomach with one arm from laughing too hard too soon.

“How do you know what a drunk chicken looks like?” James said, not stopping. “Maybe drunk chickens are excellent dancers.”

She threw her head back, grinning, when he did a particularly ridiculous flailing move with his arms. “Sit down, we need to plan!”

“Not until you get up and dance with me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it. Come on.”

Lily looked around and, smiling, answered, “Fine, but only to prove that I’m a better dancer.”

She stood up and joined in. She also danced a bit like a drunk chicken, but that was all right. Her hair came tumbling down out of its bun after a minute. James grinned wildly. They danced through the next song, too, pausing only when a slow song came on.

“Now we can plan,” James announced.

“Thank you,” she said, collapsing back into her chair and trying to get her hair in order. “That’s quite enough dancing for now.”

“Could we go to one of their concerts?” James asked.

“No,” she said slowly. “Did you not realize…oh dear.”

“What?”

“James, the Beatles broke up.”

“What do you mean, broke up?” James asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I mean they don’t make music together anymore,” she explained.

“What! Why? Did one of them die or lose a hand?”

“No, they just decided to go their separate ways.”

James ran a hand through his hair. “But—they were so good together!”

“I know,” she said soothingly.

“How can they stop? That’s—that’s criminal!”

“We were all very upset when they disbanded.”

“This is unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning forward. “It’s just how things are.”

After a minute of sulking and dealing with this very upsetting news, James told her confidently, “I’m going to get them back together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, James.”

“I can convince them. I know I can.”

“With magic?” she asked skeptically.

“Maybe a bit,” he admitted.

“James.”

“What?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. Leave them alone.”

“But—”

“Leave them alone. They’re allowed to make their own choices.”

“What rubbish. They made a terrible choice and I want to explain to them the error of their ways.”

“No.”

James’ shoulders dropped. “Fine.”

“You promise you won’t hunt down The Beatles and try to get them to get back together?”

He glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes.”

“Thank you.” She reached for her quill on the table. “So, getting to business.”

“We need to come up with a way to stop the Dark students from harming anyone else,” James said.

She looked a bit surprised, but not unhappily so. “Obviously, but there’s little chance of that without taking away their wands. Or fists, for that matter.”

He laid out his strategy for matching Slytherin prefects with ones from other houses and having them patrol at all times.

“You’re still relying on the chance that they’ll be caught in the act,” she told him.

“But if we always knew where the Dark students were, we could follow them,” he said. “Or the prefects could, and then they’d always be watched.”

She leaned back in her seat and cocked her head for a moment. “I’m not comfortable playing Terry Heaney on anyone, and besides, that hardly seems feasible. How would you always know where the ‘Dark’ students were, anyway? And are we going to come up with a blacklist of people we suspect? That seems…not acceptable.”

He had to admit, her objections were reasonable and he hadn’t thought out the implications of everything.

“The feasibility isn’t an issue – I’d make a map that tracks them,” he said. “I’ve got something similar already, but I’ll just make a modified version.”

“You have a map that tracks people?”

“Er, no. Definitely not,” James said, backpedalling. “That could be construed as an invasion of privacy, now that I think about it, and I’ve definitely never used the product I don’t have to follow you around because I am no Terry Heaney.”

She laughed, exasperated. “All right, so we could know where they all are, but that still doesn’t address who to put on this list or whether it’s a good idea or what we’d do with the map.”

“All fair points,” James conceded.

With Lily’s input, they managed to turn James’ idea into some semblance of a policy they could present to Dumbledore. Despite their best efforts, though, they weren’t able to devise a workaround to a crucial issue.

“We can patrol at night with the map all we like, but we can’t set up a permanent guard. We’ll lack coverage during the day,” said Lily.

“And there’s no way prefects will give up even more time.” James, slouched to the point of nearly lying down, sat up straight and stretched his arms over his head. “No wonder Dumbledore hasn’t done much – what’s there to be done?”

“Expel the offenders?”

“If only.”

“I still can’t forget how Avery nearly took off Mary’s head that one time.”

“Dumbledore is too forgiving sometimes,” James agreed.

“Like he was with Sirius?”

James bristled. “That was different. Sirius made a mistake. He didn’t choose a bad overall life path.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but dropped it.

“In any case, I think we need to think this through more,” she said, standing up and twisting her upper body sideways. James heard her back crack loudly and tried not to focus on her breasts.

“I’m due at home soon for dinner,” he said. “See you in a couple days?”

“That’s fine. It’ll give us some time to think over the policy some more.” As she showed him to the door, she said, “Someday you’ll have to show me the map that you definitely don’t possess.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re on about because such an item would probably be illegal,” James said. “But yes, I’ll definitely show you someday.”

\--

Although James had tried to respond to one of Lily’s diary entries immediately again, he didn’t have much success. With Sirius constantly barging into his room now that they were mates again, his mum getting on his case about a career as September first approached, he felt he had little privacy in his room. His mum had banned Locking Charms on doors long ago, citing the need for chi or whatever to flow between rooms, and he was terrified one of them would find him writing in the diary.

He’d taken to hiding in the attic on occasion, where he could hear someone coming up the creaky stairs and quickly switch out the diary for a textbook. He supposed they thought he was masturbating up there. Technically they weren’t wrong, and it was a suitable enough not-quite-ruse to keep them away most of the time.

One hot afternoon, he sat down out of the sunlight streaming in through the sole window on an old red lounge he’d discovered to read another one of Lily’s entries.

_I feel like such a prat. Robert came by again this afternoon._

_It turns out that Emily and Robert got into an enormous row not long before the Death Eaters killed her. She never told me! And the worst part is that I didn’t notice. I assume she didn’t tell me out of some noble-minded ideal of not wanting to burden me. Or maybe she didn’t want to talk about it. I’ll never know._

_This news has been…stunning. Not that they fought so much as that I’ve been a completely self-centered prat these past few months._

_I contacted Mary via the Floo and was surprised that a strange man answered. I had the right house, but apparently Mary’s parents are getting a divorce and that was her mother’s new boyfriend._

_Mary apologized for not telling me but I pulled my head out of the fire. What other news have I been missing out on in my grief? What have people been keeping from me? I’ve just been moaning about my losses and forgetting all my friends have problems, too._

_No wonder I haven’t been feeling much like myself. I like to think I’m not normally this narcissistic._

_I know I have to apologize to Mary for my rudeness, and then get the full story of what happened with her parents._

James wished Lily wouldn’t be so harsh on herself. Obviously he couldn’t speak to her friends’ motivations, but if it had been him, he liked to think he would keep his mates in the loop. He wrote back:

_You can’t force your friends into telling you things. If they decide not to tell you, for whatever reason, then it’s not your fault. You can explain that you wish they’d tell you, and lay out your reasons. Then it’s up to them._

_And even if you had been at all self-centered, it would have been completely justified._

_\--_

Sirius and James received their booklists from Hogwarts by the middle of the month. With money in his pocket from his dad, James joined Sirius for a day at Diagon Alley. When James had been very young, he’d lived for the days that his parents brought him to Diagon Alley. It had been such a change from his usual neighborhood, which had a decent wizarding population but still enough Muggles that James couldn’t fly around town. Diagon Alley had loads of shops filled with interesting magical items and creatures. Not to mention that he’d never been allowed near Knockturn Alley and would have killed for a visit as a child.

Of course, now that he was of age and could go wherever he pleased instantly—provided he didn’t lose a toe along the way—James rarely went to Diagon Alley. He didn’t know why, but now as an adult he never seemed to go to all the places he’d wanted to visit in his childhood. When he and Sirius were fifteen, they’d snuck away from James’ parents and gone into Knockturn Alley. All the Dark magic and dirty shops and people had ruined the mystique, and they’d returned to Fortescue’s after twenty minutes of exploration.

After running by the Apothecary, James left Sirius behind. The newly appointed Quidditch captain, Shannon Hughes, had requested a meeting to strategize, or some other such nonsense.

“Hi,” he said when he spotted her in a corner booth. He dropped down opposite her, twisting his family ring as it tightened around his finger. “How’s your summer been?”

“Perfect,” she replied briskly. She only spoke at rapid speeds, like she couldn’t wait to get everything out of her head before she forgot it. “I was made Quidditch captain. What more could I want?”

James could think of several things but decided to nod instead. “Fair enough. What did you want to talk about?”

“I’ve only been able to observe your leadership strategy from the outside. I need to get inside your mind.”

James paused. “I don’t think you really want that at all,” he said.

“I’m not interested in diving into your obvious mother issues or anything,” she said dismissively. “Just things like why you scheduled practice on the days you did, or how you determined whether a player could play better.”

He didn’t quite know how to tell her that mostly he made things up as he went. “Er, that’s difficult to explain,” he said slowly. “It’s all very instinctual to me.”

“You must have had some methods, some notes on your processes.”

That sounded an awful lot like something Lily would do. She’d got him to follow her organized approach for Head Boy, but as Quidditch Captain he’d mostly kept everything in his head.

He tried again to describe this process for Shannon but she seemed to think he was deliberately keeping information from her.

“Do you want me to fail?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No! I just don’t know what to tell you,” he pleaded. “I think you’ll be a fantastic captain. Just, I dunno. Let it come more naturally? Organization is good but it’s Quidditch. You do what feels right.”

One hour and one pint later he left a very frustrated Shannon at the Leaky, her notes and strategy diagrams covering the table.

He spent the rest of the day in a funk, feeling even more incompetent when he weighed Algernon and discovered that somehow his stupid cat had gained more weight. He hoped the entry Lily had written while he’d been out would make him feel less inept.

_Mary came round today for dinner to explain her side of things. Like I thought, she didn’t want me to worry. I may have started yelling. A bit. I definitely raised my voice._

_She confessed that she’d been hiding something else: Joseph has found a new girlfriend. In theory this should make me happy. I finished with him in January and he’s was down about it all term. I should be happy that he’s moved on._

_But I’m not. I’m actually strangely upset about this, and it makes me even more upset that I’m upset about it. I have no right to be. He’s not my boyfriend anymore and that was my decision._

_This new girl is French, of all things. He met her while on holiday. French! I’ve never met a Frenchwoman but I hear nothing but awful things about them. And by awful I mean that they are man-stealing wenches!_

_Obviously I am being irrational. I have no claim to him. She hasn’t technically stolen him._

_In other news, the Head Boy for this year, James Potter, has come over a few times to plan for next year. I used to really despise him, and then I found him annoying, but now I find I enjoy his lunacy._

James ran both hands through his hair, positively beaming. She didn’t hate him! Granted, he’d realized as much from just being around her recently, but it still felt bloody fantastic to see it written out so formally. Although he didn’t appreciate the jab at his mental state.

He remembered Lily's previous boyfriend all too well. James wasn't surprised he'd ended up with a smarmy French girl. He'd always wondered why she'd ended things with him and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask.

_Why did you finish with him? It sounds as though you still care for him. It’s natural to be a little jealous, even if you finished with him._

The next morning, she replied.

_I do still care for him, but I don't love him. Not anymore, anyway. We were together for the better part of a year, but then.... He didn't do anything wrong, mind. We simply grew into different people. He was the first boy I loved, and from my understanding you never forget that person. Not that I particularly want to. I learned too much and had too many experiences—positive and negative—to want to forget it._

_The thing is, I thought that if I ever wanted him back, he’d be there. I know, I’m a terrible person. I didn’t even realize I was thinking that but I was and I am awful._

James had never been in love. Well, he thought he loved Lily. He really, really fancied her, more than anyone else in his life, but he wasn’t sure he loved her.

It bothered him that she'd been in love with Joseph. Even when he'd been with Isobel, he'd hated Joseph on principle. Joseph and Lily had always seemed so happy together, much happier than James and Isobel had been.

Looking back, he could see what his mates meant. Isobel had always talked about their future, and about how they'd stay in touch after she took her N.E.W.T.s. He supposed he hadn't thought she was serious. Part of him had figured that she'd finish with him when she left Hogwarts. He hadn't bothered to think about it much at the time - they'd been having a good time together and he hadn't wanted to ruin it by analyzing it. Well, he had ruined it anyway, he realized, probably _because_ he hadn't analyzed it.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have seen their miscommunication about the future. It wasn't like they'd had a poor relationship. He'd genuinely liked spending time with her, and not even just the snogging. She was smart and entertaining and wasn't insipid like some other girls he knew. But he hadn't leaped out of bed every day, overjoyed at the thought of seeing her. He'd never waited outside her classroom so he could walk her to the Great Hall for lunch, like she would for him. And they'd always hung around her friends - he could only think of a couple instances where she'd joined the Marauders for a meal or an outing. The truth was, she'd been his girlfriend, but not really a large part of his life.

And now, knowing Lily like he did, there were so many things he wanted to do for her that he’d never wanted to do for Isobel. There was no ignoring that she was already a part of his life. Except that she didn't know it, he reminded himself, which was his own doing and someday he’d have to do something about that.

He mulled on his response to her entry for several hours before writing back.

_We can’t control how we feel, you know. Stop beating yourself over the head for something you can’t help._

_\--_

The third week of August brought Sirius’ birthday. James, Peter, and Remus dragged him out of bed and took him out for a full English breakfast. Full to bursting, they took him out to the fields behind James’ house, where they’d arranged for a private Apparition license exam with one of Oscar’s qualified mates. Sirius passed easily—he’d all but perfected Apparition after two lessons, much to James’ annoyance—and they all Apparated to London for the afternoon. Sirius’ favorite pub in Shoreditch was a bit seedy for James’ tastes, but the pints were cheap and the jukebox loud.

The jukebox fascinated James. It was like a record player but with more songs. After a quick lesson from Remus on how to use it, James put on Ticket to Ride and sang along, impressing Remus and Peter. He desperately wished he could find something similar in the wizarding world.

After a couple of pints and a large lunch, they Apparated back to James’ garage. He, Remus, and Peter had worked all night to great success. As instructed, Sirius sat on the motorbike and pushed the small button they’d installed on the handlebar while driving down the street. After it gained some speed, the bike began hesitantly to lift into the air. Sirius let out a whoop of excitement and took the bike higher, circling over James’ house.

During Sirius’ third lap around the area, a horned owl started trailing him. Sirius tried to avoid it but, from James’ perspective on the ground, it seemed to want to land on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius brought the bike down to the ground and dismounted, cursing loudly and reaching for his wand.

“You bloody bird! Can’t you see I don’t want your sodding letter!”

Upon closer inspection, James recognized it as belonging to Sirius’ mother. He grimaced, and then Sirius tried to set the owl on fire. James was actually glad when the bird dropped the letter, dodged the spell, and flew off towards London. It wasn’t the owl’s fault that Walpurga Black was a mad old bitch. James’ mother was mad, yes, but in a likeable, charming way. Usually, anyway. Not when she did things like accidentally poisoning Algernon. Still, she didn’t hate people for things they were born with.

To James’ chagrin, Sirius bent down and picked up the letter.

“Don’t,” James said, reaching for the letter.

Sirius moved it out of James’ grasp and but still held it at arm’s length, transfixed. The envelope had opened up and was moving like a Howler, but James couldn’t hear anything.

James, Peter, and Remus exchanged confused glances.

“Blood-warded,” Sirius explained quietly, eyes riveted on the letter. He snorted, and then a moment later his expression grew more somber, then livid. After a minute of tense silence to James, Sirius dropped the letter on the ground and lit it on fire. While it curled into ash on the pavement, Sirius turned and nearly kicked his motorbike, but caught himself.

“Just had to weigh in, didn’t she?” He aimed his wand at a tree but James grabbed his arm.

“She’s a cow. Don’t mind her,” he said.

“She’s a cunt, is what she is,” Sirius bit out, shrugging James off. “Regulus has gone and signed up with our favorite villainous crew. Before you know it, he’ll be trying to kill Peter! Or Remus!”

“I don’t think he would,” Remus said gently. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s your brother.”

“And she’s my mother, but I certainly don’t love her and she doesn’t love me. Family—blood—means nothing.”

Not having had a sibling, James couldn’t quite imagine how Sirius was feeling. However, having known Sirius, he knew exactly how Sirius would react to bad news, especially about his family.

“Let’s go to the pub,” said Peter. “We can all Apparate there.”

James rolled his eyes. Peter did not know Sirius like James did.

“I need to blow something up first,” Sirius said darkly, right on cue.

James was ready with a plan: he held up a finger and ducked into the garage. He rummaged around and found an old ceramic flowerpot that he Transfigured into a human shape with long hair. He set it out in the middle of the garden. “There,” he said. “Blow that up.”

Sirius screamed a Blasting Curse at the effigy. The pieces rebounded back on the center of the explosion, thanks to the Shield Charm Remus had cast around the effigy as soon as Sirius’ curse hit.

“Good thinking,” James told Remus.

“One of us has to think ahead and, no offense to you, but you’re not well-known for your forethought.”

James scowled.

Sirius let out a long breath. “Right then. To the pub!” he said, a bit more maniacally than James would have preferred.

At the pub, Sirius downed pint after pint while eating an enormous plate of chips. He ignored James’ and Remus’ attempts to slow him down, claiming that it was his sodding birthday and he’d do as he pleased. Finally he all but passed out. His binge had put the rest of them off from drinking too much, leaving Remus and Peter were sober enough to Apparate home. James cast a discrete Feather-light Charm on Sirius and dragged him home and into bed.

“Why’s your family so much better than mine?” Sirius mumbled, curling up on his side.

James smiled without humor. “I wish I knew.”

The next morning, a very hungover Sirius tumbled into the kitchen around ten. James handed him a glass of a murky potion and Sirius guzzled it, finishing with a smack.

“That’s loads better, thanks,” he said, sinking into the seat opposite James. “Sorry about…yesterday.”

“’S all right,” James said, setting down the _Prophet_. “Your family’s crap. You’re officially in mine now.”

“Not too officially,” Sirius said, smirking, “or I won’t get my uncle’s money. I’m visiting the solicitor today.”

Oscar wandered into the kitchen, seemingly lost.

“Did you forget why you came in here?” James asked.

“Er, yes. I’m afraid so.”

“Did it perhaps have to do with the fact that it was someone’s birthday yesterday?”

“Ah!” Oscar grinned. “Right. Now I remember.” He sat down at the table with them, reached into his pocket, and handed a small bundle of cloth to Sirius. “James asked me to let you have your fun yesterday so I put this off until today.”

Sirius looked at the cloth, confused. He unwrapped it to find a small gold pocket watch inside.

“I know we’re not blood,” Oscar said, “but we’re very happy to include you in our family.”

Sirius stared hard at the watch and then met Oscar’s eyes. “I—thank you. I don’t—”

“I’m betting your family didn’t send you the one they set aside for you when you were born, but it’s tradition for you to have one. If your family doesn’t want to uphold it, we’ll do it for them.”

James had never seen Sirius at such a loss for words.

“Thanks,” Sirius said weakly. He rubbed a thumb over the cover and then tucked it into his jeans pocket. “That means a lot to me.”

James punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Told you you were family.”

\--

At last their summer came to a close. James spent the last day of August tossing items into his trunk and wondering where the time had gone. Around teatime, he felt his ring tighten and stay that way for nearly an hour. When he finally hunted down his Snitch and tucked it safely among his robes, he sat down and reached for the diary.

_This will be a difficult year at Hogwarts but I think I’ll manage. I’m dreading having to take myself to King’s Cross tomorrow. Mary offered to let me come with her family but it seems appropriate that I take myself. I’m on my own from now on. I’d rather not acknowledge that, but ignoring it won’t make me feel better and won’t help me get through life._

_I looked up some charms to keep the house in order while I’m at Hogwarts. One of the many things I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about for years to come. I’d ask the neighbors to check in periodically, too, if only they wouldn’t wonder how my plants stayed watered. After living alone for most of the summer, I wonder how I’ll readjust to sharing a room._

_Emily’s parents threw me a farewell celebration. They made me a gorgeous chocolate cake with white icing. The regular customers all wished me well at school this term. Olive gave me the pocket watch they gave Emily on her seventeenth birthday and said that she hoped I would come to them when I needed help. She stressed that she was there for me, even when I was at school._

_It was so kind of them but I had to leave the room to cry. Part of me would love to move back into their place, skip my final year of school, and let them take care of me. I know that’s not really an option, though. No one can ever replace my parents, and I don’t want to be their replacement daughter. I’ll keep Emily’s watch, though. It’ll be nice to have a part of her to carry around with me._

_Has it really not been two months since Emily died? It feels like it’s been years. And yet somehow it seems so recent. I wouldn’t say I’m back to my old self, the person I was before I lost my parents, but sometimes I get fleeting moments of normality that give me hope._

James silently thanked Emily’s parents for being so kind to Lily. Even adults liked having someone older to go to for assistance, he well knew from personal experience. He wrote back:

_Just because you don’t want to replace Emily—which is completely fair—doesn’t mean you should cut her parents out of your life. They do care for you, probably more because Emily is gone and you likely knew her better than they did these past few years. They probably also realize that you are a lovely young woman who needs parental figures in her life._

_I wish you had gone with Mary’s family. You might not have your parents but you’re certainly not alone. If nothing else, you’ve got me!_

He would’ve liked to write more but had to shove the diary under his pillow when someone knocked on his door.

“Moony here, reporting for duty,” came a muffled voice.

“Mister Prongs bids Mister Moony to enter.”

Remus poked his head in first. “Happy Hogwarts Eve,” he said, fully stepping through the door and shutting it behind him.

“And the same to you, sir.”

“Where’s Padfoot?”

“Visiting his solicitor. He should be back any minute.”

James suddenly realized how infrequently Remus visited his bedroom and became keenly aware that if Remus saw the diary, there would be hell to pay. He leaped up and walked over to his window, around which he’d taped up several of his drawings.

“Have I shown you my etchings?” he said, hoping it passed as casual.

Remus gave him an odd look and shook his head.

“Padfoot has no idea what they mean, obviously, but I thought you might.”

Remus walked over and inspected the drawings. “Is this from I Am the Walrus?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah! It’s the eggmen.”

“And a fireman with an hourglass. I know the phrase but can’t place the song.”

“Penny Lane, naturally.”

Then Remus frowned. “What on earth is that supposed to be?” He pointed to a different sketch. “It looks like a cucumber surrounded by snakes.”

“Oy,” James said, hurt. “That’s a yellow submarine. It’s beneath the waves!”

Remus leaned in to the picture, squinting. “Do you know what a submarine is?”

“I haven’t seen one, no,” James said petulantly, “but Lily explained it. I think I captured her description perfectly.”

“Don’t even tell me what she said. I prefer ignorance. It’s much more amusing.”

“Shut it. Like you’ve never taken artistic license.”

“Well, I’ve only done the one play, so I haven’t had much opportunity.”

“Did you ever phone that agent?” James asked.

“Er, yes,” Remus said quietly. “I did.”

“What did he say?”

“More or less what he told me in person: that he could help me get some professional work, if I liked and were willing to pay him a small fee. I told him I would think about it while I was at my final year of boarding school and get in contact with him back next summer.”

James clapped him on the shoulder. “Who says you can’t fight Death Eaters and be in plays? I certainly don’t.”

“I think there are very few things you think impossible, James. Except getting Algernon to bring you a bacon sandwich.”

“I vow that I shall not rest until my cat has brought me a bacon sandwich,” James said solemnly. He didn’t know why Remus laughed because James meant it.

Soon Sirius returned and Peter arrived. James grabbed the basket of food and drink he’d had the house-elves prepare and led his mates on a short walk to one of the fields near his house. Once they’d all sat down on the grass, James distributed the wine glasses and set out a small plate of cheese. He popped the cork out of the first bottle of wine and reached for Sirius’ glass.

“May I serve you, Mister Padfoot?”

“Of course, Mister Prongs.”

After serving everyone with a full glass of red wine, recommended by the shop worker, James raised his glass. “To one year left!”

They all clinked their glasses together, drank deeply, and then grimaced. Except, oddly, for Peter, who swallowed easily and smiled. “Bit sweet,” he said.

“How would you know?” Sirius asked.

“My mum loves wine. Taught me everything she knows. Not to mention Helena likes a man who knows his wines, so I resolved to be that man.”

“Or one of them, anyway,” Sirius muttered.

Peter glared at him.

“Ugh, that was awful,” said James, wiping the back of his sleeve across his mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Remus looked sadly at his glass. “I had some when I was about seven and hated it. I’d hoped I’d enjoy it more as an adult.”

“You didn’t exactly pick out a nice label,” Peter told James. “Of course it’s going to taste like shit.”

Sirius stared at the wine bottle for a long moment, then picked it up and poured himself some more. Holding up his glass, he said, “I don’t want this evening to go to waste. I’m not not getting completely drunk. Cheers.” He took another large gulp and winced.

“Why did you decide to bring wine anyway?” Peter asked.

“I know someone else who drinks it a lot and likes it,” James said, sulking. “Seemed like a mature, adult thing to do.”

“Just because Lily Evans does it doesn’t mean you have to, too,” Remus said.

James set down his glass a bit too forcefully, causing some wine to slosh over the rim. “That’s not why I did it,” James said. “It just seemed like a cool idea to replicate.” He sighed heavily. “Look, let’s just go to the pub, yeah?”

“But then we can’t get high on Alipotsy,” Sirius pointed out.

James crossed his arms over his chest. So much for a cordial final night of summer. “Look, we can go to the pub and then get high.”

“But Alipotsy tastes garlicky after beer,” Sirius complained.

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius, if you have such a problem with these plans come up with one of your own,” James snapped.

“Sorry. I’m just…tetchy.”

“I noticed,” said James, still annoyed.

“Let’s just get high,” Peter suggested.

“I agree,” said Remus. “That should be plenty of stimulus for tonight.”

“Fine.” James reached into his pocket and pulled out two joints. He lit one with his wand and breathed in deeply. “Merlin, I love Alipotsy,” he said, passing the joint to Sirius. “Cures all ailments.”

Everyone but Peter left the wine untouched. Despite the less than amicable start to the evening, after an hour on Alipotsy, James found himself smiling, and not just because Sirius had spelled Remus’ feet onto the opposite legs.


	8. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Dah

At King’s Cross the next morning, James couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. He remembered the first time he’d arrived to take the Hogwarts Express. That first train ride had ended up defining his life. He’d instantly befriended Sirius and turned Lily against him. For a while this summer, he supposed, the inverse had been true. But now he had Sirius and Lily – well, he sort of had Lily. He wanted to call her his friend but that seemed…uncertain. He really was her best friend now, probably, in the diary, but by being the diary, he was also betraying her confidence.

“This’ll be the last time, then,” Oscar said, breaking James out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” James said, hoisting his trunk off the ground. “Hard to believe.”

“But just think,” Sirius said, throwing an arm around James’ shoulders. “In nine months, we’ll be free to do exactly as we please.”

“I doubt Hogwarts has kept you from that,” Oscar said.

“I sincerely hope that’s the case,” Odette added. “You’re both bright boys. Don’t let rules get in the way of your education.”

“I assure you, Odette,” Remus said from behind James, “we’ve never let anything stand in the way of our… _education._ ”

James turned to smile broadly at Remus. “Heya, Moony,” he said.

“Ready to go be Head Boy?” Remus asked.

“Shit!” James looked around wildly. “I’m supposed to meet Lily in the prefect compartment. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

Remus shook his head. “I’ll go tell her you’re on your way,” he said, trunk in hand. “Lovely seeing you, Oscar, Odette.”

“Same to you, Remus,” Oscar said. To James, he added, “You’d better get on with it. Off to your final year before the real world.”

“So dramatic,” James said, setting down his trunk and throwing himself into his dad’s arms. “I’m so glad that trait skipped a generation.”

“You definitely get it from his side of the family,” Odette said, hugging him when his dad had finished.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re on about,” James said.

Sirius also received two very large hugs and a kiss on the cheek from Odette, which made his cheeks turn red.

“I expect letters every week, Sirius,” she said. “Keep me abreast of James’ shenanigans.”

“Yes! Shenanigans!” James said, grabbing his trunk. “Thank you for using the proper word, Mum.”

“Run along now,” she said, shoving him lightly.

“Go make hell for Lily,” Oscar said.

“Yes, sir.” James saluted with his free hand and then turned toward the train.

“Ready, Padfoot?”

“Of course, Prongs.”

\--

After finding Peter sitting in a compartment waiting for them, James dropped off his trunk and Sirius. He quickly changed into his school uniform, pinned the Head Boy badge to his chest, and raced down to the prefect compartment.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

Lily, Remus, and a few other prefects sat around a long, very narrow table that spanned the length of the carriage. James had never given much thought to what the prefect compartment would look like, but much like their bathroom, the carriage’s oak floors and deep red curtains bespoke a certain level of luxury associated with their position. He could get used to this, and to using the prefect bathroom without breaking the rules.

“We haven’t really started yet,” Lily said. She gestured toward the seat next to her.

James took a deep breath and sat down. “So, what are we discussing?”

He looked around at the other prefects. Besides Remus, he could only name Rhonda Roper from Ravenclaw among them, but he did recognize the boy with mousy hair and an expressionless face. He’d caught James and Isobel sneaking out the previous year. No matter what James said, the boy’s face stayed completely still, apart from his lips. It was downright eerie. Now, though, he’d have to work with him. Already James began to partially regret accepting Head Boy.

“Quidditch,” Lily said, dour.

“Brilliant!” he said. “Who do you lot support?”

As they discussed the Tornados’ chances in the upcoming match against the Arrows, more prefects wandered in. Finally, just as James was sure he was on the verge of making the expressionless boy show some sort of reaction to James’ claim that the Arrows’ Seeker was a very clever, masterful cheat, Lily cleared her throat.

“The train’s just about to depart,” she said, “so let’s begin.”

She introduced herself and James, and had the rest of the group introduce themselves. The expressionless boy turned out to be a sixth-year Slytherin named Dirk Cresswell.

“For you fifth-years, we’ll be pairing you up with an older prefect as a mentor,” Lily explained, passing around the list of paired-off names she and James had developed.

“Who’s my mentor?” James asked jokingly.

“I am,” Lily said, quite serious.

“Er, of course.”

She ignored him. “If anyone has a problem with their mentor, come talk to us tomorrow and we can have a discussion.”

After a brief discussion of expectations, James handed out common room passwords and assigned pairs to different train compartments.

“Switch it up every hour, yeah,” he said, “so no one gets stuck with anyone awful—or their friends—or both, if they’re the same people—for the whole trip.”

The prefects filed out. Remus had been paired with a prissy fifth-year Slytherin names Doris Purkiss, and he didn’t seem exceptionally pleased about it, based on the look he shot James as they left. Still, Lily had suggested the pairing in the hopes of calming Doris’ enthusiasm for the rules.

“Well, that went well enough,” James said when he and Lily were alone.

“I think so,” Lily said, leaning against edge of the table.

“We’re not half bad at this.” He grinned.

“Were you worried about me being Head Girl?”

“We both know I’m the one who’s got something to prove here, but look, I did just fine.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t disagree.

“Are you really my mentor?” he asked.

“Of course. You’re new to this whole authority business and I can’t just have you running about, doing as you please.”

“I’d like to see you stop me.” At her stern look, he added, “Right. Yeah. You could.”

“Was there any doubt?”

He and Lily spent most of the journey in the prefect compartment. She’d argued they should remain stationary, in case an emergency came up and someone needed to find them, and James was not one to turn down hours of her company.

His final Welcoming Feast should have been an exciting, memorable experience. It was memorable, but not in the way James had hoped. Sirius spent the entire meal sneaking looks at the Slytherin table.

“Did you see him?” Sirius demanded of James.

“Who?”

“Regulus,” Sirius said, as if it were an offensive word.

“No,” James said slowly, “why?”

“Because I want to know if I can now visually discern his lack of soul.”

“You’ve been reading too many Russian novels,” Remus said.

Sirius glared at him. “You’ve no appreciation for dramatic overstatement.”

“You’re right,” Remus deadpanned. “I’m absolute shit at drama.”

James and Peter laughed, while Sirius scowled and looked over at the Slytherin table again, brooding.

Later that night, ensconced in their dormitory, James and his mates snuck in a final Supraround of Polish Pirate Poker from the previous academic year. Peter had been well ahead, holding the ace of spades, but at the last moment, Sirius snagged him with an Impediment Jinx and stole the Champion title.

“So we’ll have the first Supraround of the new season on Saturday, yeah?” Sirius asked, a smug grin on his face while he leaned against his bed post. “Can’t wait to activate the ten of spades. I studied up on monosyllabic spells this summer.”

“Enjoy the title while you can,” James said. “You’ve only got it for two days before I begin reclaiming it from you.”

“You’ve had years to prove yourself, Prongs, and fallen short every time.”

Sirius turned toward the bathroom and took a step, but Algernon darted out in front of him. Sirius took a reeling step back to avoid crushing him and fell on his arse, cursing.

James winked at his cat in thanks. He knew who his real best mate was.

\--

Unfortunately for the professors, the first day of classes fell on a Friday. They seemed resigned to the fact that students were more concerned with each other than coursework. A frustrated Flitwick released them ten minutes early, muttering about school regulations under his breath. Sprout only managed half of her lesson on Lying Lilacs before throwing everyone out of the greenhouse and locking the door behind them.

They spent the afternoon brainstorming ideas for a new group project but without much success. James had a project he was eager to begin but for once he was hoping to go it alone. Peter surprised him by tearing apart the one suggestion James had—an extension for the Cloak—and James had tried, possibly unsuccessfully, to hide his hurt feelings. He suspected they cottoned on when he refused to pass the roast beef to Peter at dinner, claiming his wrists felt weak.

Happily, for once, he and Sirius had the first Slug Club meeting that night, and Peter would not be attending. Except that when James headed for the dungeons from the Great Hall, Sirius made for the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

“I’m finished with that stupid club,” Sirius said. “It’s a bloody waste of time and I can’t stand Slughorn.”

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t persuade Sirius to go with him, and James didn’t feel confident enough in his Potions skills to skive off. Slughorn did not take kindly to club members who stopped showing up to events, but with only their N.E.W.T.s in front of them, Sirius apparently no longer cared about his Hogwarts marks.

James wandered down by himself but ran into Tilden Toots on the way. James kept quiet and listened to Tilden go on and on about the Lying Lilacs and how their seeds could be used to cure something really dangerous sounding. James stopped paying attention about three seconds into the conversation.

Inside Slughorn’s office, he and Tilden parted ways, leaving James alone. He felt entirely off his game without Sirius at his side. Normally they spent the entire party or meeting muttering sarcastic comments to one another. Without Sirius, who was James supposed to talk to? He didn’t know or care about most of the other members of the stupid Club. Lily appeared to be engaged in a very serious, passionate conversation with Professor Slughorn, and he certainly didn’t want to join in on what was likely a Potions discussion.

He headed over to the table laden with food to pass some time. While fetching a cup of punch, he overheard Glenda Chittock giggling nearby.

“Do you expect he’ll befriend that Hufflepuff Watson?” she said.

Some bloke let out a loud bark of laughter.

James turned around to see Glenda standing in the corner with Nick Crabtree.

“I hadn’t even though about that!” said Nick.

Punch in hand, James walked over to Glenda. “Who are you talking about?”

“Oh, right, you’re pure-blood,” said Glenda, wiping a tear from her eye.

This seemed a complete non sequitur to James, who’d never know Glenda to be someone to care about such things. Then again, he’d really only ever spoken to her at length the one time they’d been paired together in Charms a few years earlier.

“D’you know that firstie Gryffindor, Conan O’Doyle?” said Nick, still looking terribly amused.

“Er, yeah,” said James cautiously. “What about him?”

“Have you ever heard of Sherlock Holmes?” she said.

James dug through his memory. “Is he that tall bloke in Ravenclaw?”

Nick and Glenda laughed at him. James didn’t care for that.

“He’s a fictional character,” she told him. “Very famous.”

“Of course,” said James, totally lost.

“The books were written by Conan O’Doyle,” she explained, as if that settled it.

“He seems awfully young to have written a bestseller,” James said.

That sent Nick and Glenda off into new peals of laughter.

When they settled down, Nick went on, “No, our Conan is named after the real one. His parents must really hate him.”

“He’s named after an author?” James asked.

“Yeah.”

James lifted his chin. “I think that’s exceptionally brilliant of his parents. Clearly this Conan O’Doyle chap is a genius and you two are just jealous that you’re named after, er, nothing.”

Glenda raised her eyebrows. James’ heart broke when he saw that Nick was lifting only one eyebrow. He’d been trying to develop that skill for years with no success. Rather than deal with their judgmental eyebrows, James spun on his heel and found Lily alone at the food table. She stood holding a goblet in her hand, staring off into space and looking forlorn.

He gently tapped her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She jumped a bit at his touch. “Hmm? Oh, yes, fine.”

“Really, though.”

She smiled morosely. “It’ll have been six months tomorrow. Seems everything awful happens at the beginning of the month, lately.”

He had the intense desire to hug her, but thought she might find that odd.

“I’d do anything to change that, you know,” he said.

“I know. Thanks.”

He wasn’t sure how to follow that up, but fortunately his mouth spoke of its own accord.

“I don’t care much for those two,” he said primly, nodding at Nick. “They’ve no taste at all.”

“Who? Nick and, oh, what’s her name,” she said. “Glinda?”

“Glenda Chittock. Idiot.”

“What’ve they done?” she asked. “Not brought you any bacon sandwiches?”

“It hurts me when you mock me, Lily,” James said sternly. “Someday I will get Algernon to fetch me a bacon sandwich. Just you wait.”

“Well, I don’t have much choice, do I,” she said, laughing a bit. “I just expect someone to rise from the dead first.”

James huffed. “As I was saying, Crabtree and Chittock—more like Pillock—are mocking that firstie, Conan O’Doyle.”

Lily suppressed a snicker.

“Oy!” said James. “That’s completely uncalled for. He can’t help his name!”

“I know, it’s awful,” Lily said, “but I just can’t help it. He’s just so…little. You don’t think of Conan O’Doyle as a little boy with glasses and ears that stick out.”

“I expected better of you.”

“I know! So do I. I would never laugh in front of him, though.” She frowned. “Well, I’d try very hard not to. I feel awful about this, really.”

“Some Head Girl you are.”

After an hour of talking to Lily about Head things—and succeeding at not making a total fool of himself, for once—James felt he’d made a respectable appearance and accompanied her back to the common room, where they lingered for a moment before heading up to their respective dormitories.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” she said. “I hate those parties.”

“D’you really? I always thought you loved them.”

“No. Slughorn’s a bit of a prick, playing obvious favorites. It’s not fair at all.”

“I completely agree, and thank you for keeping me company. I can’t believe Sirius let me go down by myself.”

“Well, I used to go with Emily, so….” Lily trailed off.

“So we both needed a party partner,” James filled in.

“Exactly.”

“Right then. So, good night.”

“Good night,” James said. He really wished he could lean in and kiss her, but settled for giving her a small wave and a smile.

He all but ran up the stairs to the highest room, ignored his friends, and shut himself in bed, trying to permanently memorize the evening’s events. After a moment, though, his friends roused him out of bed for Polish Pirate Poker.

“We’ve been trying to get hold of you through the mirror for ages,” Sirius complained.

“Er, I left it behind,” James said.

“What did you do that for?”

“Well, I thought that you were going to be with me, but then you decided not to go, so really it’s your fault.”

“Mirror situation aside, you forgot about Polish Pirate Poker!” Sirius said, punching James on the shoulder. “What kind of a Marauder are you?”

“I got caught up in the party,” James muttered. “It was loads of fun and you missed out. He had those miniature pastry things you like.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Can we begin already?” Remus prompted. “I’ve got some shillings to win.”

“Gentlemen, prepare your brains and wands and arms,” James said five minutes later, holding the deck of cards in his hands. “We are about to embark on the final season of Polish Pirate Poker of our lives. Well, of our school lives,” he amended. “Please, let us take a moment of silence to reflect on seasons past.”

They all bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Remus, the sly bastard, had the most titles at three. Sirius and Peter held one apiece, leaving James with no ultimate wins. He’d come close fifth year but lost in the penultimate Supraround. He thought this was crap because he’d invented the bloody game.

Soon they looked up again and James dealt.

The round went as well as it could for James. He got hold of the Queen of Hearts and knocked out Sirius with a Leg-Locker. He won the Supraround but didn’t expect that to last. He always started out in the lead but fell behind around January. Still, he was determined to walk away from Hogwarts with at least one title, and this was his last chance.

\--

With Polish Pirate Poker on his mind, he arrived in an exceptionally empty library on Sunday morning. Under Ned Hobson’s watchful eye, he tracked down several books of jinxes and hexes. He’d just finished jotting down the incantation for a Seam-Splitting Hex when he saw Snape head toward the table farthest away from James.

James’ shoulders tensed up. He’d thought about this encounter quite a bit, although he hadn’t expected it to occur so soon. He grimaced briefly, then stood up and walked over to Snape’s table. Snape had barely set his bag down when he turned to face James, already looking annoyed.

“Good morning,” James said evenly. “Do you have a minute?”

“To spend in the company of a dunderhead like yourself?” Snape said in that smug tone he favored. “I think not.”

“No, I mean, I want to, er—” James pushed through, “—apologize.”

Snape’s jaw dropped, just the tiniest bit, and he drew his eyebrows together in disgust. “Apologize? I don’t need an _apology_ from _you_.”

“Look, Snape,” James said. “Don’t be a prick right now, just for a minute, all right? I want to say that I’m sorry for being such a shit to you for the past six years.”

“No apology needed,” Snape bit out. “Remove your abhorrent personality from my presence now, if you please.”

James felt eerily calm. Now that he’d got going this wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.

“You can go and laugh with your mates about this in a moment,” he said, “and I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’m just asking for you to hear me out.”

Snape glared and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I used to be a toerag but I’m trying to change and grow up. Only partially because I’m Head Boy,” James amended. “Mostly because I’m an adult and adults take responsibility for themselves. So this is me, taking responsibility.”

“What did you expect that I would say? That all’s forgiven? After years of abuse at your hands?”

“No, no,” said James quickly. “I don’t really care what you do. I know you’ll never forgive me and maybe that’s just and fair. Please, just know that I am sorry.”

“And you expect me to believe that you plan to treat me like you do everyone else?” Snape asked. “Now that you’ve all the authority a student can amass?”

“I don’t expect you to believe it, but yeah. If you break the rules I will dock points and assign detention. Or worse.” James tried to be only mildly threatening but mostly charming.

“You arrogant, boastful waste of space.”

“So that’s my piece, then,” James said, completely unsure of how to finish this discussion. “I’ll be on my way.”

As James turned around, Snape said, “I’d sooner slit my own throat, pour acid down it, and jump into a pit full of Inferi than forgive you.”

“You have a lovely day, too, Severus,” James said, grinning to himself.

All in all, he thought to himself as he heard Snape snarl behind him, that had gone about as well as James had expected.

\--

Monday morning brought more classes, of course, and James spent his free period in his room working on a new project. As far as James could reason, making a magical jukebox shouldn’t be any harder than making an exceptionally detailed map of Hogwarts. And yet, despite his best efforts, he was stuck. He’d brought his parents’ old wireless to school to experiment on. The problem was he had no idea what made the wireless portion work and couldn’t begin to think of how to change it. The Map had been simple enough in concept. Start with a piece of parchment, add drawings and spells, and it was done. Granted, it had taken them six months of hard work to get it going, but the idea was easy.

He reluctantly admitted to himself that he’d have to research more about wireless technology in the library. If only, he thought, there were a magical construction and innovation class.

When he and Lily met that night for prefect rounds, he decided to ask her advice.

“I can’t think of how to build a machine like a record player that isn’t exactly like a record play just playing on magic.”

“So why are you starting with a wireless?” she asked, gripping the banisters as the stairway moved.

Algernon, collared and leashed, had wrapped himself nervously around James’ leg.

“It seemed easier to start with an existing magical machine than a Muggle one,” James admitted.

“You might have a point there.”

They both began descending again when the staircase reached its new position, Algernon trailing behind them.

“I don’t know exactly how the wireless radio works, but I think if I do that’ll help a lot,” he said, taking them to a tapestry-hidden passageway to get them back on their route. “But I still don’t know how to get the songs I want into the wireless. I’d have to build a magical record, I suppose.”

“Maybe,” Lily said. “I wonder if instead of trying to store the music externally, like a record player, you made it like a tape recorder.”

“A what?”

“It records sound that you can play back later, like a personal record-maker.”

James gave her a confused look.

“It’s like…the wireless already understands the songs and can convert them to sound, right?”

James nodded.

“So leave that part alone,” said Lily. “It already works just fine for your purposes. What you should do is find a way to make the wireless record the converted sound so you can play it back later.”

After thinking this through for a minute, James told her, “You are brilliant.”

“Er, thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve no idea if that’ll work or not. I’m just making up things.”

“No, no,” James said, yanking on the leash when Algernon dawdled. “It’s a fantastic idea. Thank you. I’ll look up some recording spells in the library later this week.”

He wished she’d been involved in making the Map. She probably would have saved them weeks of work.

“Well, keep me posted, all right?” she said. “I’d love to be able to listen to music in my dormitory. It’s just me, Heather, and Lucinda right now, and I’d gladly take The Beatles over talking to them any day.”

“Did they take out Emily’s bed?” James asked, without really thinking about it. As soon as he realized what he said, he quickly added, “Sorry, that was a really stupid question.”

Lily shrugged. “It’s a reasonable question, but no, it’s gone.”

“Right,” James said. He wasn’t sure which way he’d prefer it, were it Sirius.

“It was two months yesterday,” Lily said quietly.

“Oh,” was his brilliant response.

She laughed darkly. “That’s about how I feel, too.”

“If you ever get tired of listening to your dormmates, you can come visit us Marauders. Our room is clean on account of—well, this game we play, it’s top secret.”

“Right,” she said, looking at him strangely.

Wishing he could explain Polish Pirate Poker, but knowing he couldn’t, he pretended he hadn’t mentioned it. “I hate that I have to Chase during my final year at Hogwarts with someone besides her.”

“You have the third Chaser,” she pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“I know what you mean,” she said gently.

“I meant what I said, though,” he told her. “If you get, er, lonely, visit us. We’ll keep you laughing at us.”

“Not with you?”

“I think I know better by now.”

That time she gave a genuine laugh.

“Well, thanks for the offer,” she said. “I can’t promise I’ll take you up on it.”

“That’s fine,” James said, grinning. “So long as you know it’s out there.”

\--  
For reasons unfathomable to James, Sirius was taking NEWT-level Divination. He was one of three in the class and said that Professor Forsooth favored him best among them. James had tried to get him to take Muggle Studies but Sirius had shown zero interest in the topic. So on Thursday afternoon while James and Peter had a free period, Sirius wandered off to the tower and came back unusually distraught. Normally Sirius enjoyed spending a lazy afternoon in a comfortable cushion.

“Good omens today, Padfoot?” James asked at dinner.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sirius, violently adding mashed potatoes to his plate.

“Right, then,” James said.

He wanted to ask about it but he was running late. He shoved a final bite of shepherd’s pie into his mouth before bolting off to the Quidditch meeting Shannon had scheduled for all returning members.

Mostly she wanted to show that she was in charge. She reprimanded James for every joke and sarcastic comment that he made, and he did not appreciate that one bit. Still, she was captain now, so James shut up when she told him to. She could kick him off the team if she wanted, or place him on reserve. Going from captain to player might be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

She went through the trials schedule for later in the month. Whereas James had just had everyone show up and figured it out from there, she had planned out several different tests of ability for the participants. He woefully realized how inadequate he had been as a captain. Not to mention that James dreaded having to help fill Emily’s empty position.

The one highlight of the evening was that Lily was writing another entry, based on his ring. She’d been awfully quiet since they got back to school and he didn’t know why. After the meeting he walked back to into his dormitory to find it empty. He fished his mirror out of his pocket to call Sirius.

“Where are you?” he asked.

He could hear Sirius rustling around in his pocket. A few moments later James could see Sirius’ face, which looked much cheerier than it had before.

“Remus and I are just heading down to the kitchens for a snack. We’ll be back in a bit. You want anything?”

“I’m all right, thanks.”

“Cheers.”

Alone for a while—hopefully—James pulled out the diary to read.

_I heard from Mary who heard from Winifred Barnes who heard from Myron Travers that James Potter has apologized to Severus for being such a complete prick all these years. Color me stunned. Of course, I’m sure Severus was a complete prick during the apology. He can’t stand being seen as weak. Always drove me batty. He could be strong but, well, I don’t want to go into too much of his personal history. Still, I thought it was quite decent of James to apologize, even if Severus didn’t forgive him. I can’t imagine he expected that, though. And he said he’d get his best mate to apologize for nearly killing Severus in May, so that’s all sorted. In theory. In practice I’m sure Severus will continue to loathe both of them, and they him. All I hope is that all three of them will stay well away from one another this year._

James beamed and pumped his fist in the air. He hadn’t counted on Lily finding out, and he hadn’t truly done it for her, but it was nice to be given credit for doing the right thing. He penned back:

_It sounds like James Potter isn’t the toerag he used to be. Good on him. I hope he can get his friend to apologize to Severus, too._

And James did hope he could get Sirius to apologize. Now that they were back at Hogwarts and the opportunity to apologize had presented itself, Sirius kept putting it off, saying it wasn’t the right time. James saw right through that lie, but he couldn’t bloody well Imperius Sirius into doing it.

\--

Unfortunately, the next day James regretted that Lily had expressed such confidence in him.

Sirius’ poor mood had returned by the next morning. In Charms he overpowered his Imperturbable Charm, and the small wooden chest he’d picked as a practice item burst into pieces.

After class, Sirius shoved his belongings into his bag and took off without a word to his mates. Remus shot James a concerned look, but James couldn’t do more than shrug. He had no idea what was bothering Sirius. With Peter in tow, they headed to the Great Hall for lunch, hoping to find Sirius, but on the second floor they ran into a crowd blocking the corridor. Many of the students were shouting, egging someone on.

James stood on tiptoe at the edge of the group, trying to see who was in the middle. His stomach sank; he thought he knew all too well who he might find, and panicked at the thought of Sirius getting himself expelled.

“Can you see anything?” Peter asked.

James ignored him and looked, stricken, at Moony for guidance.

“You’re Head Boy, James,” he said softly.

James swore. He’d known this situation might arise but he’d hoped—beyond reason, apparently—that Sirius wouldn’t force him into it. Apparently friendship still wasn’t as important to him as revenge.

He cast a brief Amplification Charm on his voice and shouted, “Move or I’ll dock points from every single one of you!”

At first only the nearby students started to scatter, but once everyone else saw that he did indeed have that power, there was a mass exodus. Before too long he could see a core group of a few students lingering, and spells flashing amongst them.

Really, though, there were only two people involved. Someone had set up a small duel ward to prevent stray spellfire, and in the middle of the hazy green field James saw Sirius and, thank Merlin, Regulus.

James hadn’t seen that look of absolute hatred on Sirius’ face since Snape had ruined James’ Apparition test. And Sirius wasn’t holding back with his spells, either – James didn’t recognize several of them, and he assumed they weren’t harmless jinxes.

Snape, Rosier, and Gibbon were among the Slytherins James recognized hanging around the ward, cool smirks on their faces.

James hesitated, unsure of what to say. Snape turned his face toward James and raised his eyebrows, daring James to act.

Hating Snape, Regulus, and at the moment Sirius, James waved his wand and brought down the duel ward, then cast Body-Binds both Black brothers. James detested how easy it was, how caught up in their own stupid quarrel they were. He reached out to grab Sirius’ shoulder to keep him from falling, and Snape did the same to Regulus.

“Detention, both of you,” he said, his voice hollow. “Three nights each. Regulus with Filch, Sirius with Slughorn.”

And all the while, the Slytherins stood silently, watching.

Although Sirius couldn’t speak, James knew Sirius wouldn’t soon forgive him for this, even though it was Sirius’ fault.

He reluctantly cast the counter-curse on Sirius first, who quickly pulled himself out of James’ grip.

“Fuck off, James.”

“Go to lunch, Sirius,” James said, weary. He nodded at Remus, who reached out to grab Sirius’ arm.

Sirius ducked his grasp and let out a wordless snarl. He grabbed his schoolbag off the ground and ran up the stairs.

James sighed and turned to the Slytherins. “I’m not an idiot and if any of you let this happen again, I’ll be speaking with the Headmaster.”

“We tried to stop him,” Rosier said in a bland voice. “Really, we did.”

Frustrated, angry, and appetite gone, James wanted to storm off himself, but instead he calmly turned to Remus and Peter and told them he’d see them in class later. Then he headed straight for the Quidditch pitch, where he knew he’d be alone at this hour, to blow something up.

\--

He spent his free period sulking and wishing he hadn’t accepted this responsibility. He’d much rather be Quidditch captain. That was easy, and fun to boot. Being Head Boy wasn’t close to being fun. Fun was in a completely different realm than being Head Boy, as far as he was concerned. So far it had just been stressful and made him realize how lacking he was in basic organizational skills.

Instead of going to Herbology, he sat on the dirt floor of the Quidditch shed and played catch with his Snitch.

Halfway through the last class period of the day, he heard a knock on the door.

“I’m not in the mood, Remus,” he said loudly. “I’ll be up for Polish Pirate Poker later.”

“Polish what?” said Lily, sticking her head in the door.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought--” He stood up and pocketed his Snitch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Herbology?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m busy sulking. What’s your excuse?”

She pushed the door open and leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “I told Professor Sprout I was feeling ill.”

“So both the Head Boy and Girl are skiving off class,” James said, grinning. “How very responsible.”

“Yes, well, your responsibility is why I came to find you. Remus told me what happened.”

James’ smiled dropped. “I’m in the mood to sulk, not to be lectured.”

“What would I lecture you about? You broke up the fight and gave them detention.”

“Because I’m a terrible Head Boy,” he said, feeling a great weight lift off his shoulders in his confession. “I can’t believe Dumbledore picked me and he really shouldn’t have. I should resign.”

“Oh, stop whinging,” she said. “You’re a great Head Boy.”

“I am not. I’m not organized and I’m not a good planner and I think I’ve probably turned about a quarter of the school against me when I, at some point or another, Transfigured them into a goat.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Lily admitted.

“See!” James ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit,” she said, stepping inside the shed. “I’ve never been in here before,” she added. “It’s quite small, isn’t it. Smells a bit rank.”

James groaned and leaned against the wall next to the brooms. “And that’s another thing. I thought I was a decent Quidditch Captain but Shannon puts me to shame.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“You don’t know. You don’t even like Quidditch.”

“No, but I’ve seen you as Head Boy,” she said, not looking at him. “You’re charismatic. People listen to you.”

“You think I’m charismatic?” he said skeptically.

She turned toward him. “Yes, you prat. And you bloody know it, so don’t expect me to go on about it.”

He grinned a bit, but it didn’t last. “I used to think I was so responsible, you know?” he said. “And now I think that’s probably not true.”

“Possibly. You’ve shown up for all the prefect meetings, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And all the rounds.”

He nodded.

“And you and I planned out a brilliant new mentor system and rounds scheduling system.”

“Those were your ideas,” James argued.

“But you helped me make them better, so they’re our projects.”

“Fine.”

“So what makes you so irresponsible?” she asked, going back to leaning on the doorframe.

“Er, have you met me?”

She shrugged. “You can be a prat sometimes but you don’t abandon the things you start.”

James was a bit stunned.

“I suppose,” he said carefully.

“You kept working on that magical jukebox, right?”

“I gave it a go the other night, but it’s not anywhere close to working.”

“But you’re working on it.”

“Of course I am. I said I would, didn’t I?”

“There you have it,” Lily said. “You are plenty responsible. You may be a liar, true, but you only about yourself or your accomplishments. If you say you’re going to do something, you follow through. That’s not true of many people.”

“Oh,” said James. “Well, when you put it that way.”

She smiled gently.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “We’re a team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, returning her smile. “We are.”

“And Sirius is being an arse. He couldn’t have expected you to do anything differently.”

“I know. It’s just…hard.”

“You’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go sneak into the kitchens.”

She held out her hand, and he crossed the room in three steps to grasp it with his own.

“You know how to get into the kitchens?” he asked.

“I don’t know, as a matter of fact, but I bet you do.”

“And right you are,” he said cheerfully. “Ms. Evans, if you’ll please follow me….”


	9. Don't Pass Me By

James didn’t get back to the dormitory until late Friday night. He assumed Polish Pirate Poker had been delayed, and went straight to bed. Based on the bed hangings, Sirius was still out wandering the castle somewhere. James instinctively thought of checking the Map or the mirror, but remembered he was angry and didn’t actually want to have another confrontation at the moment.

He didn’t fall asleep for hours, and Sirius never came in. He was just so tired of fighting with Sirius. They’d lost nearly two months’ of friendship over Snape and James really didn’t want to lose two more because of Sirius’ poxy brother.

He didn’t wake until mid-morning, groggy but less stressed. He spent the day in the dormitory, sitting on his bed and tinkering with his wireless.

In the afternoon, after James had finally managed to get some basic recording spells into the wireless, he heard familiar footsteps enter the dormitory.

“What are you working on?” Sirius asked.

James lowered his wand and turned his head toward the door.

Sirius looked like shit, with bits of leaves in his hair and reeking a bit.

“I spent the night in the Forest,” he explained, when James wrinkled his nose a bit. “Let’s just say I had an unpleasant encounter with another animal.”

“That’s grand,” James said, turning back to his wireless but not really focusing on it.

“I’m sorry, all right?” Sirius offered.

“Okay,” James said tersely.

“That doesn’t sound like forgiveness.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, how can we get there?”

“I don’t know, how about you stop behaving like a fucking first year,” James said, resigned. He put his wand down on his bed next to the wireless. “I’m tired of being the dad, Sirius.”

“That’s Moony’s job.”

“I’m well aware, but I’m Head Boy now and I can’t just look the other way, or join you, or whatever it is you think I should have done instead.”

Sirius walked over and leaned against James’ bedpost. “I know.”

“You know I don’t want to give you detention, but fighting in the middle of the corridor with your brother?”

“I said, I know,” Sirius said bitterly. “It was bloody stupid but I was just…. All week Regulus’ friends kept reminding me that he’s…you know.”

“I can’t stop that. It’s not against school rules,” said James. “The taunting, I mean. Being a Death Eater, maybe. Well, not really, but I think it should be.”

“I don’t know what to do, James.”

“Neither do I, but you don’t see me in duel wards in the corridors.”

“I know I deserved those detentions, but did you have to pick Slughorn?” Sirius grimaced.

James raised his eyebrows, and desperately wished it were just one of them instead of both.

“Fair enough,” Sirius said. “It won’t happen again, all right?”

“I don’t want to threaten you,” James said, “and I don’t know what I’d threaten you with, but really, Sirius, don’t make me do that again.”

“I won’t!”

James really wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t, not entirely, and he hated that.

He looked down at the wireless. “I’m working on a magical jukebox, but I’m having trouble getting the recording spells to set correctly.”

“I can’t tell you how many of those I used to set up around the house,” Sirius said. He sat down on James bed and smiled. “You’ve come to the right person.”

\--

After dinner that night, James met Lily outside of the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore’s office. He wished it were for a date, which might have actually been less stressful than what they’d planned.

“Ready?” she asked.

“No. I think I’m going back to the Tower. You’ll take care of this one, right?” he asked, hopefully.

She rolled her eyes, then reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Come on, you coward. Every Flavor Beans,” she told the gargoyle, who leapt aside.

To James’ delight, she held his hand as the staircase slowly brought them to Dumbledore’s door, which sat slightly ajar.

“Come in,” came Dumbledore’s voice.

James’ heart secretly broke when he realized he wouldn’t get to use the griffin knocker on the door, and again when Lily let go of his hand.

He’d only been in Dumbledore’s office a handful of times over the years—never for anything good until now—and he’d always been massively jealous. Someday he’d build himself an office like this and fill it with equally interesting objects, only he’d know what they were for.

“Please, sit,” Dumbledore said, gesturing at the two chairs across from him. “Tea, anyone?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Lily, taking a seat.

James nodded and sat down, savoring the view of the Quidditch Pitch through the window.

Dumbledore waved his wand and a silver tea set floated over from a table near the fireplace. While serving them—eerily, he knew how they took their tea without asking—he hummed faintly, a strange tune James didn’t recognize.

James gratefully accepted the cup from Dumbledore. He wasn’t in the mood for tea but he did want something to do with his hands besides fidget. Fidgeting was unbecoming of Head Boy, he’d decided.

“May I begin by congratulating you on a marvelous beginning to your appointment as Head Boy and Girl,” Dumbledore said, handing another cup to Lily and keeping one for himself.

“We’re very honored to have been chosen,” Lily said.

“The staff and I tend to prefer to have representation from different houses, but this year the choice seemed too obvious to ignore.”

James gave what he hoped was a thankful smile, but he was willing to bet it came off as awkward. Despite thinking about Dumbledore relatively frequently, for one reason or another, James really hadn’t interacted much with this magical prodigy and overall legend. Oddly, he found Dumbledore’s approval harder to face than his scoldings.

“Everything I’ve heard thus far leads me to believe we were correct in our suspicions that you two would make quite the team. In particular I find the mentoring system an inspired touch.” Dumbledore paused to sip his tea. “That said, are there any issues you would like to discuss with me? Any matters I might bring to the next staff meeting?”

“Er, yes,” James said.

Lily looked at him sideways and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod of the head.

He cleared his throat. “Given the, uh, political climate, and some past incidents at Hogwarts, we’d like to propose a change to current policy. Any student caught using Dark Spells or deliberately harming another person—badly, not just Tripping Jinxes or whatever—could be expelled or reported to the authorities. Ministry authorities, that is.”

Dumbledore looked at him mildly over his teacup. “Forgive me, Mr. Potter, but could you please clarify how you wish to change the existing policy?”

“I mean, I know right now if someone killed someone else, they’d get expelled, but we all know you essentially have to commit murder to face expulsion.”

“What James means to say,” Lily filled in, “is that we don’t believe there’s enough of a deterrent right now. Students feel they can act as they want and not have to face consequences besides detention and lost House points. And it’s understandable that they do, considering it’s been at least ten years since someone’s been expelled.”

“I see at least one of you has read _Hogwarts, a History_ ,” Dumbledore said, smiling faintly. “Your point is well-taken and I shall take it under advisement.”

Lily and James shared a concerned look.

“Does that mean you’ll be more willing to expel students?” James asked.

“It means precisely as I said: I shall take it under advisement during future decisions.”

“But you won’t have to think about it until something severe has happened,” James said, trying to keep his voice level and failing a bit, “something that maybe could be prevented if students knew that you were going to be harsher about it, if they knew they could face the Aurors for what they did. Planned to do. Plan to do?”

“Sir, I really wish you’d weigh this a little more heavily,” said Lily. “I—we’re not sure you understand the mindset of the other students.”

“I, too, was young once, and I, too, made my share of mistakes.”

“But there’s nothing else we can do, sir,” James said tersely. “We’ve spent hours talking about it but there’s no other way. We can’t very well follow the suspicious students around and hope we catch them in the act, and we can’t think of a way to impose a curfew or stricter controls on wand usage without going completely overboard. This is the only way.”

“Deterrence,” Lily added. “We think it’s the most effective method. These students doing Dark magic might think twice if they knew they might destroy their chance of having a normal future.”

“I understand the two of you would like me to be a bit stricter in my methods,” said Dumbledore. “However, I prefer to err on the side of giving my students the benefit of the doubt.”

“They’re abusing your trust,” James said without thinking.

“Given their age, it’s in their nature to do so.”

“Some of them are legally adults and should be treated like it,” Lily said.

“Based on the letter of the law, you are correct, Ms. Evans, but please understand that all students are like our own children to myself and the other staff.”

James’ knuckles turned white around his full teacup. “How can you let them walk all over you? Even if they were your own children, I’d hate to think you’d stand by and let them do as they please.”

“It was not so long ago that you yourself were pleading on behalf of one of your friends who had made a similar mistake.” Dumbledore set down his teacup on its saucer and clasped his hands together on his desk. “One of the key components of being young is to make mistakes, sometimes terrible ones, but I am of the opinion that those mistakes should not necessarily define their future.”

James nearly scoffed. “Sirius would never—” But then he remembered that Sirius had in fact nearly killed someone, not five months ago. “Well, Sirius is different. He had me, someone who hadn’t messed up, arguing for why he should stay and vouching for his character, and he did change his mind and apologize, which is more than I can say for any Slytherin, both on the apologizing and the friend fronts.”

“You speak so definitively on the subject,” Dumbledore said, completely calm as always. “Are you completely positive that no Slytherin has ever come before me on behalf of another, explaining that their friend has gone too far and their methods have become too extreme, and that they know their friend will never go so far again?”

“Well, no, but I feel like it’s much less likely than with Gryffindors!”

Lily cut in. “Regardless of Sirius Black’s situation, I still believe we should leave expulsion and reporting students to the authorities as a potential consequence. Thank you for your time, Headmaster.”

She stood up, setting down her teacup and saucer on his desk. “James?”

Stilly annoyed, James resisted the urge to dump his tea all over Dumbledore’s desk and instead put his cup next to Lily’s. “Thank you, sir,” he bit out.

“I appreciate your dedication and your suggestions, and I shall take them under advisement,” Dumbledore said.

“Not bloody likely,” James muttered as he followed Lily to the staircase.

Both he and Lily remained silent on the ride down. Once they’d passed the gargoyle and were out in the corridor, James whirled on Lily. “Can you believe him?” he half-shouted.

But Lily did not look irritated with Dumbledore. She looked angry at James.

“What?” he asked, bemused.

“Why does everything have to revolve around Sirius Black?” she said. “We were having a perfectly reasonable discussion and you completely got us off topic.”

“It was a logical tangent,” James argued. “I don’t think Slytherins band together like Gryffindors.”

She huffed angrily and pursed her lips. “Did you really argue on his behalf to Dumbledore?”

“Of course I did! He was going to get expelled.”

“And you didn’t think to bring this up before this meeting?” she said, growing louder.

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“It’s exactly what we were proposing! Under our proposal, Sirius probably would have been expelled.”

“Yeah, I get that now, thanks.” James crossed his arms over his chest.

“You completely undermined the whole proposal.”

“It was sunk to begin with. He didn’t intend to give it any thought.”

Her face grew red. He hadn’t seen her this riled up in months. “You just--” she started, then stopped. “You, with your bloody schemes--”

“Shenanigans!” James interrupted automatically.

“Oh, grow up,” she bit out. “You think you’re so clever but you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

She fumed for a good half a minute before speaking. “Well, for one, Sirius Black will never be remorseful for what he did to Severus.”

“He is, though!”

Again, she seemed to be struggling to keep her mouth shut. Finally, she said, “I can’t have this discussion with you right now,” and stormed off toward the Tower.

First Sirius and now Lily. James couldn’t believe what a shit week he was having, and this situation he understood much less than his brief spat with Sirius.

\--

James woke early on Sunday for Quidditch trials. He found Sirius already dressed and in the common room, pacing about.

“What’s got you up at this hour?” he asked, descending the stairs.

“I’m going to apologize today,” Sirius said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You are? That’s fantastic! It’s about time, mate.”

And it was perfect timing, really. Lily didn’t know Sirius like he did.

Sirius groaned. “This is going to be awful.”

“Well, it’s this or potentially get expelled.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” Sirius said, still distressed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” James asked.

“Yes,” said Sirius. “I would guess he hates both of us equally—”

“Very generous of him—”

“Quite. But I think together he might hate us more than he hates us separately.”

“Hmm. You’re proposing that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”

“Precisely.”

“Very well,” said James primly. “I’ll sit here and await your return. Use the mirror if something goes terribly awry, yeah?”

“Will do.”

They walked down to the Great Hall together and ate a light breakfast of toast and eggs. James spotted Shannon, Miles and Aiden finishing breakfast together at one end of the table. Sirius left his food half-eaten and, guided by the Map, went out in search of Snape.

James hurried through the rest of his meal and followed his teammates to the Pitch. About ten Gryffindors showed up to fill the two empty positions. They had one returning reserve member from the previous year, Julianne Jacobs, and she was trying to fill the empty Chaser position. James hoped she didn’t get it because they didn’t have very compatible styles.

Shannon put them through several tests, including hand-eye coordination, maneuverability, innovation, and strategy. James felt like a tosser the whole time for not devising a similar system the year before. He’d only had them do some typical plays and moves from a game and judged based on instinct.

Ultimately Shannon chose a stocky fifth-year for Beater and a blonde third-year named Gwen Goodwin for Chaser. James hadn’t ever spoken to her, but she did demonstrate the most remarkable sense of aim he’d seen outside of professional leagues. Julianne was devastated that she was still on reserve, but secretly James rejoiced. He was glad Shannon hadn’t made her a regular player out of pity. Then again, knowing Shannon, that option didn’t even register for her.

On his way back upstairs after trials, James called Sirius on the mirror.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve got all my limbs, but not for his lack of trying.”

“That bad?”

“You’d think he’d be pleased that I was apologizing.”

“We are talking about Snape.”

“All the same. I knew there was no chance of him forgiving me—and that’s just fine—but he got angry. I think he was even more outraged because the two of us have both apologized to him,” Sirius said. “He must think the world’s turned on its head.”

“He hates being seen as weak,” James said, matter-of-factly.

“Such insight,” Sirius mocked. “You a Mind Healer now?”

“Well, anyone can see he’s an angry person.”

“Very true, Prongs. Very true.”

\--

That night he and Lily had planned to meet in a corner of the common room to discuss any changes to the mentoring system, but at seven she was nowhere to be found. An hour later she came in, arms laden with books. She set them down at a table on the other end of the room, pointedly not looking at him. He got up and walked over anyway.

“Lily--”

“I don’t want to speak with you,” she said, flipping to a page in the topmost book.

“Can I speak at you?”

“No.”

“You can’t really stop me.”

She shut the book, grabbed her wand, and pointed it at him.

“All right, you could,” he said, holding up his hands, “but I’m asking you not to.”

She lowered her wand and put it in her schoolbag.

“I’m not interested in having any discussion with you unless it’s about something important.” When she saw the look on his face, she amended, “Something I would consider important. Not that Algernon has finally lost some weight.”

“For your information, my cat’s health is of extreme importance to me, and I know you care but are pretending not to.”

She didn’t respond to that, which James took as a concession and, honestly, a good sign.

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you about my deal with Dumbledore because it was private and Sirius’ business. Also, can we please write a radio show called Deal with Dumbledore someday, but I agree now is not the time to get into it.”

“James.”

“I know, I know. All I want to say is it really didn’t occur to me to bring it up or that it was even relevant in this discussion. I’ve been trying to forget the whole thing had ever happened.”

“I know you didn’t intentionally not tell me but it’s still frustrating,” she said, her voice less bitter now. “Especially after what he did the other day.” She frowned. “I know I was a little harsh last night and I wish I hadn’t been.”

“I’m sure it is frustrating and I’m sorry, too, all right? But I can’t help but feel you’re mad about something else, too, maybe Dumbledore or something, and I don’t know what that is but tell me and I’ll fix it.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “I can’t tell you.”

“Oh.” He was surprised, both by the statement and by how deeply it cut him.

“I’d love to discuss it with you, really, but it’s complicated and the timing isn’t right,” she explained. “Maybe someday. But just give me a day or two and I’ll be all right again.”

“Give you a day or two?”

“I’m not upset over nothing, I promise, but I just need some time to think something over.”

He knew what she was asking but didn’t want to admit it, much less talk about it, so he said, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

So they skipped their meeting and for the entire week, James didn’t seek out Lily. He even traded rounds with Remus and put up with Doris for an evening to avoid being alone with Lily.

He wished he knew what he’d done, or what someone else had done, but he couldn’t ask her and she wasn’t writing in her diary. She hadn’t written in it for more than a week and he couldn’t help but worry.

He hadn’t realized how different this year was from the previous one, even though they’d barely begun term. He and Lily had established a routine of sorts, checking in at least once a day, ostensibly to discuss Head issues but inevitably talking about anything but.

Now he thought of things he wanted to tell her, observations in class or in the Tower, but couldn’t because she didn’t want to hear them. Trying not to be creepy or weird about it, he did watch her. She spent a lot of time with Mary, laughing in the common room or the Great Hall. One night in the library he saw her studying Arithmancy with Nelia Newman from Ravenclaw, and another night Herbology with Tilden Toots.

He spent the week with his friends, as he’d always done before, but he missed her.

\--

Finally, on Friday afternoon, Lily stopped James on his way out of the greenhouse.

“Will you walk with me?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. To Remus and Sirius, he added, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

James followed her over to the lake. Thick clouds blocked out the sun and a stiff, cool breeze came at them from across the lake. Lily cast light Warming Charms on both of them.

“Getting cold already,” James said, trying to get Lily talking. She’d been silent the whole trip down.

“Yeah,” she said, adjusting the school bag on her shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Did you want to talk about something in particular?”

She gave a small nod. “I got a letter from Emily’ parents this morning.”

“Oh,” said James. “What did they write?”

“They’re just checking up on me. I should’ve written them a letter weeks ago but I didn’t know what to say.”

“Ah.” James had no idea what to say. “That you’re a fantastic Head Girl?” he proposed.

“I’m not one for boasting.”

“Even deservedly, apparently,” James said, trying to keep things light. If she wasn’t going to mention the fact that they hadn’t spoken in days, neither was he.

“There’s not much to report,” she said. “I miss Emily something awful. I write assignments. I go to Charms club.”

If he were in her situation, James would still have no idea what to write. So instead of trying to solve her actual problem, he asked, “Want to get high?”

She paused. “What have you got?”

“Well, it’s something we invented, in a way.”

“Is it illegal?”

“Probably?” James said. “Hard to say. We lace pot with Alihotsy.”

She gave him a look of disbelief. After a moment, she said, “Don’t tell me you call it Alipotsy.”

James shook his head fervently. “Definitely not.”

“You do,” she said accusingly.

“Well, it’s just a natural pun,” he argued.

She considered this. “Is it any good? Alihotsy induces hysteria, and I don’t want that at all.”

“No, it’s cool. You get high like normal but it actually makes your magic really potent and bizarre. You should try it!” he said. “You’ll spend tomorrow vomiting and feeling like crap, but not emotionally. It’s a real trip. I’ve done some bloody great spells while high on it.”

She thought about it for a minute and then smiled humorlessly. “It sounds interesting. So, yes. Let’s get high.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “We’ve got a stash in our room.”

An hour later, they lay sprawled out next to the lake on spelled-warm grass. Normally James tried not to get high in such public places, but the early cold snap had kept everyone else indoors.

“I miss Emily so fucking much,” Lily said.

“She was so much fun! And a bloody brilliant Chaser.”

“I always forget that you knew her through Quidditch.”

“When we were third years,” James said, “she and I ran into each other out on the pitch the day before tryouts at midnight. She tried to get me to leave and ended up throwing the Quaffle at my head. Of course I caught it. Have you seen me play Quidditch? I’m fantastic!”

“I thought you were unbearable sober but you’re even worse high,” Lily mused.

“But we were really good together. Even better than alone. It’s like…there’s a word for it.”

“I know that word!”

“Me too!”                                                                                                                                                   

“I wish I could remember it.”

“Me too.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panicked.

“Casting another Warming Charm,” she said, confused.

“Oh, don’t do that,” he said. “That one gets really funny on Alipotsy.”

“What do you mean?”

He explained to her how Alipotsy often subverted spells, giving them extra strength, the opposite effect, or a completely different effect, all seemingly at random.

“I want to see,” she said. “What spell should I try?”

“Lumos is nice and safe. Give that a go.”

She cast the spell and a green light came out of her wand. She pointed the light at her hand and stared. When the light changed to blue, she shouted.

“Oh my God, that’s brilliant!”

“Isn’t it?”

“What happens with other spells?”

James tried to remember. “Color-changing charms get sort of supercharged. That one is fun. Cheering Charms get a bit mixed up. They get a bit psychotic, actually.”

“What about.... _Accio_!”

Her school bag stayed put.

James shook his head and got out his wand. “Watch this,” he said. “ _Accio_!”

Thirty seconds later, a hissing, spitting ginger ball of fur came flying at him from Gryffindor Tower. Algernon landed on the ground next to James and leapt at him. James snatched him out of the air and grabbed the fur on the back of his neck. Algernon calmed immediately and James set him in his lap.

“You can’t summon animals!” Lily said.

“You can now,” James said, scratching Algernon’s ears. “If you like the thing you’re Summoning. If you don’t it doesn’t work.”

“Oh. My God,” Lily said. “This is amazing. How does no one know about this?”

James shrugged. “We figured it was probably illegal so we haven’t told anyone.”

He regretted Summoning Algernon only because Lily had got so worked up about this. The point of getting high was to mellow out.

“You broke a tenant of Charms!” she said.

He sat up and looked her in the eye.

“Lily Evans,” he said. “Focus on being high, yeah? Not academic shit.”

She also sat up and stared at Algernon.

“Is this your life?” she asked.

“Getting high with my cat?” James said. “Not around exams or Quidditch. We’re not that stupid.”

“No, I mean doing amazing magical things and not even caring.”

“It’s just magic. It shouldn’t be surprising that it doesn’t act the way you think it should.”

She opened her mouth to speak but then shut it. After a moment, she said, “You pure-bloods don’t even appreciate what you have. It makes me nearly sick sometimes.”

“It will tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

“I mean it. We can instantly move from one place to another. The Muggle world would kill for that power.”

“Everything must take so long for them.”

“It does! Emily used to say Muggles seemed like snails. I think that’s a bit harsh because they’re just as smart, but they just don’t have the tools or abilities we do. It’s like…being under _Impedimenta_. Everything is slower.”

“I think Emily had a snail thing,” James confided in her. “She used to call us that on the pitch. Does she think it’s a cruel insult? Because snails are cool. They bring their houses everywhere with them.”

“I know!” Lily said, properly distracted again.

James sighed happily. They both lay down again with their hands linked behind their heads. After a few minutes of silence, Lily spoke.

“I can’t believe we—Head Boy and Girl—are high right now.”

“We’re just cooler than the other Heads,” James said. “Last year’s were so uptight. One little Transfiguration and bam, detention!”

“Goat incident?”

“No! Snail. Long story.”

Lily turned her head to look at him, confused.

“Emily?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

“She never told me!”

“Yeah, well, that’s not surprising, is it?”

“I suppose not,” she said. “Still. Hah!”

“See,” he said triumphantly, “Transfiguration can be funny.”

“Oh.” She caught her mistake. “I mean, how dare you Transfigure people, you hooligan!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll never do it again, so on and so forth.” James smiled at her. “Now that I know you do think it’s funny I’ll never stop.”

“I noticed I haven’t seen any goats or other unexpected animals since term started.”

“Yes, well,” James said, “I’m feeling generous.”

“Have you really given it up?”

“I suppose.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” he said decisively.

“What will the school turn into without the threat of being Transfigured into an animal at any minute?”

“Now I can just deduct points or assign detention, so I don’t need to do it, really.”

“Not for personal disagreement.”

“Yeah, but I’ve just decided to forgive people instead. It’s much less work.”

“If you say so.”

They lay quietly for a while, watching the clouds and the darkening sky. One by one lights came on across the castle. James would miss this, next year. The lake, the Forbidden Forest, the history and glamor of living in a castle.

“Heather made some awful comment about how now the dorm doesn’t smell like sweat anymore because Emily’s not lounging around after Quidditch,” Lily said.

“I told you, you should come visit us, when they get like that.”

“And sit there with Sirius mouthing off at me with every other sentence? Pass, thanks.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” James said, confused.

“It certainly seems that way to me.”

“You should try to get along with him.”

“I try just fine! He’s the one who’s got a stick up his arse about me.”

“I’ll talk to him and see if I can’t get that stick removed. Not that I’ll remove it. That would be disgusting.”

“You’re a lunatic, and I’ve got to go,” she said, checking her watch sitting up. “I’m feeling more normal anyway, and I promised Mary we’d have a girls’ night in her dormitory.”

He climbed to his feet, a bit unsteady.

“Thanks for this,” she said, getting up. “I needed it.”

“Happy to oblige. Let me know the next time you feel like being a true hooligan and I shall provide.”

She smiled at him. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, Lily.”

\--

On Monday, Professor McGonagall spread the word among seventh years that they would each have another career counseling session over the coming weeks. Remus had his first of the group, and came to dinner that night looking a bit down.

“What happened?” Peter asked.

“I told her I might go into acting for a bit and she did not think that was the wisest use of my talents.”

“That’s only because she’s never seen you act,” James said.

Remus didn’t reply and poked sadly at his pie.

Peter was next, on Wednesday after Charms. He, too, returned sullen.

“She thinks I should look into Care of Magical Creatures,” he said.

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” Sirius said. “You could look after rats in a lab or something.”

Peter did not seem cheered by the prospect.

When Sirius had his scheduled for Thursday, James expected to have to deal with another distraught friend. Sirius, however, bounded into the Great Hall and sat down smiling next to James.

“What terrific news did McGonagall give you?” James asked.

“Oh, it was awful news. She thinks with my attitude I can never get a proper job,” Sirius said, serving himself some roast chicken. “Fortunately I have enough money that I don’t have to worry about holding down a ‘proper job,’ and I told her as much.”

“I’m sure she was thrilled to hear that,” Remus said.

“Oh, she nearly shouted. She didn’t even offer me a biscuit,” Sirius said, elated.

James didn’t have his appointment until Sunday and spent the days ahead of it dreading the discussion. He remembered all too clearly his fifth-year session, when he’d told McGonagall he wanted to be a frog. She’d actually Transfigured him into one for a minute. It had been a thoroughly disgusting experience.

With his mind so preoccupied, James fell behind in Polish Pirate Poker on Saturday. They only had four weeks left before the weather prevented further rounds, and another loss like that could keep him from the title.

After breakfast the next morning, he trudged up to her office on the second floor. He knocked on the door and she called out for him to enter.

“Have a seat, Mr. Potter.”

She sat behind her desk, her hair in its usual bun. Her biscuit tin taunted James from its usual place on the edge of her desk. He loved her biscuits.

James seated himself in the wooden chair opposite her and deliberately looked everywhere but at her. He’d been in this office so many times, and who knew how many more chances he would have to sit in it before his N.E.W.T.s?

“Have you given any more thought to your career options?” she asked.

James reluctantly looked at her. “Er, sort of.”

“The last time we discussed this, you told me you wanted to play Quidditch and marry Lily Evans,” she said, amused.

James had forgotten about the detention last year that had turned into a career discussion. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“I did say that, yeah.”

“And are those still your ambitions?”

“I suppose so.”

She did not seem pleased to hear that. “Nothing else?”

“Well,” James said, “I had, er, thought about maybe being…an Auror. Or something.”

McGonagall smiled a bit. “Well, you’re in the right courses for that path.”

“But the problem is,” James continued, “I don’t think the Ministry is doing a bang up job at stopping Dark wizards, but I don’t know how else to go into the business of keeping them from killing more people.”

“That’s very noble. And, in my opinion, an accurate appraisal of the situation.” She gave him an assessing gaze. “I also think you might do best away from the rules and regulations of the Auror Department.”

“Right. So, what do I do?”

McGonagall tapped a finger on her desk. “You’ve done well as Head Boy. Thus far.”

“Er, thanks?”

“I admit, I had my reservations about Dumbledore’s choice.”

“So did I.”

“But you and Lily appear to work well together.”

“We do,” James said, uncertain where this discussion was headed.

“So perhaps you are closer to one of your ambitions than you were last year?”

“I like to think so.”

“Castle gossip also informs me that you’ve tried to make amends with Severus Snape.”

“Er, yes,” he said, confused why that would get around to her. “I tried, anyway. He was about as responsive as you would expect.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Yes, I can imagine how that conversation might have bothered him.”

James shrugged.

“What I’m trying to say, Mr. Potter, is that I’m very proud of your attempts to be more responsible. Merlin knows I’ve been trying to get you to do that for years.”

He fidgeted a bit in his seat. He thought he’d done pretty well, too, but it felt weird to be acknowledged for it by McGonagall.

“I’ll speak to Professor Dumbledore about some alternatives to the Auror path on your behalf,” she said. “He may be able to arrange something.”

“Really?” James said, sitting up straight.

“Indeed. I shall let you know the results of my efforts within two weeks.”

“Oh, thanks, Professor,” James said, a bit shocked.

“You’ve come a long way from wanting to be a frog,” she said warmly. “Well done.”

\--

Later in the week, Lily wrote in her diary again at last.

_The Deputy Headmistress had career sessions with each of the seventh years. She asked me what I wanted to do, and I said I wanted to stop the people who killed Emily, plus the three people I suspect they’ve killed since then. She seemed to approve of this, but oddly she said she’d talk to the Headmaster. What jobs Dumbledore offers, I’m sure I don’t know, but maybe this could turn into something interesting. I don’t trust the Aurors because they haven’t exactly impressed me to date, but I don’t know how else to go about “achieving my ambition,” as the pamphlet she gave me talks about._

Elated to hear that he and Lily were pursuing the same long-term goals, James eagerly wrote back.

_Word in the diaryworld is you’re not the only one who’s told her this, or who’s received the same response. I look forward to hearing about what news she brings you from the Headmaster’s Office._

She was right that there had been several suspicious murders in the past few months. Nothing as blatant as what had happened to Emily, but only an idiot wouldn’t suspect the Death Eaters. James really did want to do something, especially now that Dumbledore had stymied their intra-Hogwarts efforts.

The Slytherins had refrained from blatant dueling in the corridors, but there were still small incidents, small hexes and jinxes that were a shade too dark for normal schoolyard rivalries. It frustrated him and Lily immensely to have no recourse and no preventive actions. Still, if Dumbledore himself couldn’t think of something, James wasn’t surprised that he’d come up short.

At least he could look forward to potentially working with Lily after N.E.W.T.s. He told Algernon as much, and his cat meowed happily in response.

On Saturday he chased his friends out of the dormitory, claiming he needed to show something Lily in private. Ignoring Sirius’ lewd remarks, he’d sent them all out to Hogsmeade on his own Galleon.

He’d finally got the jukebox working, thanks to her help and Sirius’, and invited her up to his empty dormitory to show her.

“What’s this big surprise, then?” she asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

He pulled the Cloak off the wireless on his nightstand.

“Voila!” he said, grinning.

“Oh!” Lily leapt up and inspected the wireless. “Did you get it to work?”

He waved his wand and Can’t Buy Me Love began to play.

She let out a small yelp of excitement.

“That’s fantastic! How did you get it to pick up Muggle songs?”

“I snuck into Hogsmeade to take it out away from magical interference, and I got it to receive Muggle signals. This was the only Beatles song it picked up, but in the future you could get loads more if you just got it away from magic to listen.”

“I’m still amazed you made this,” she said, running her hand over the top of the machine appreciatively. “Will you make me one?”

“Oh, er, this one is yours,” James said, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I only managed one Beatles song.”

She threw her arms around him and gave him a very large hug, which James savored. Whereas Isobel had always worn the same perfume, Lily didn’t seem to wear any. She smelled like a normal person. She smelled wonderful.

“Thank you,” she told him. “You’re definitely not a toerag.”

“Thanks?” James said, laughing. “That’s quite the compliment. I think.”

He taught her how to play the songs he’d stored in the wireless and tried to memorize how happy she looked. They both danced, rather like drunk chickens, until they collapsed on his bed in exhaustion. Lying next to her, he turned his head to see her. She was absolutely lovely and he desperately wished he could lean over and kiss her in that moment. His conscience held him back, though. He knew he couldn’t ethically do anything of the sort without coming clean, he knew that.

Then again, he thought, perhaps now was the time. He’d had a perfect moment with her, or at least as close as he felt he’d get, and she was exceptionally happy with him. Maybe she’d be so pleased that she wouldn’t mind that he’d been deceiving her for months. He hated to tell her—she’d be so angry—but he couldn’t _not_ tell her. Unless he just stopped writing back.

No, that was also awful. She’d feel abandoned. And he’d feel like a right prick. He had to do it. He’d known that for months. And why not now? If he waited and thought it over he’d mess it up, or not do it at all. He could too easily picture himself working up the nerve, calling her over, and being too cowardly to finish it off.

“Lily?” he said, sitting up.

“Yes?” she looked up at him, the picture of contentment.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Have you turned someone else into a goat even though you promised you wouldn’t?” she asked. “If it was Terry Heaney, I won’t be too upset.”

“No, it’s more serious than that.”

“Are you in love with Helena Hodge, too?”

“No,” he said, his hand fidgeting in his lap. This was not going quite as smoothly as he’d hoped. “I may have…violated your trust. A bit.” He amended, “Okay, a lot.”

She sat up and gave him a curious look and asked, “What did you do, exactly?”

“I’m trying—” James took a deep breath. “I’m trying to say… I’m your diary charm. ”


	10. Long Long Long

“How do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, I’m the person writing back.”

“I see,” she said.

She looked down at her lap for a long minute. The jukebox continued to play the latest Celestina Warbeck song, which was much too cheery for the news James had just delivered. He spelled the jukebox off.

The silence stretched on and James thought his heart might burst from the tension. He wished with all his being that she wouldn’t start crying. Seeing Isobel cry one time was enough.

“I know, James.”

James stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve known since the moment you wrote back that it was you.”

“Not really, though,” he said, without thinking about it. His brain seemed to have frozen.

“As soon as my brand new, magical diary wrote back, I asked Emily where she got it, and she said Remus. Which of course meant you.” She smiled, deeply amused. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? Who else would even try something like that?”

“Well, you’re Muggleborn, and don’t know how magic works… I dunno.” James rubbed his hair. “It made sense at the time.”

“After six years at Hogwarts, I’m betting I understand what magic can do better than you can. You don’t think about it the same way I do,” she said. “I know magic’s limits, but I don’t know that you do.”

“What limits? I think those are rubbish. Alipotsy proves that.”

“Fine, maybe I don’t know all the limits,” she conceded. “But it just seemed very unlikely that the diary was exactly what it said it was.”

“Right, so I’m an idiot.” He ducked his head. He couldn’t believe what an idiot he’d been, and how lucky he was that this wasn’t the revelation he’d thought it would be. Not once had he thought she might know. How had he not thought she’d know? She’d always seen through his shenanigans.

“Are you very angry with me?” he asked.

“Initially, yes, I was,” she admitted. “You don’t really believe that I think Gaspard Shingleton is the fittest bloke at Hogwarts, do you?”

“I did think that was strange, yeah,” he said, thinking back to one of her first entries.

“But then, well, Emily died, and… I was desperate to talk to someone,” she said, tucking her legs up underneath her.

“Understandably.”

“So I knew you’d be reading, and that was okay because so long as _someone_ knew what I was going through, I wouldn’t go mad,” she said. “Even if you didn’t always give the best advice.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be there for you,” he said, still confused. “In spirit. In physical? You did have a diary in your hand….”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I was still a little angry with you until, oh, August. But that day when I just got tired of being angry, I stopped being angry with you, too. Because you didn’t set out to hurt me, I assume.”

“You assume correctly.”

“And you pointed out that there are other people in this world who I should focus my anger on. It was unusually wise for you.”

“I was made Head Boy, I might remind you.”

“I do want an apology, though.”

“Yes! Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Lily, I am very, very sorry I tried to pull one over you by pretending to be a diary charm.”

“You’re not sorry, though,” she said, smiling faintly, “because I’m not angry.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I can’t even tell you how many times I wished I hadn’t done it because it was stupid and cruel and if you weren’t so brilliant, I would have really hurt you. I was really thoughtless and selfish and just… stupid.”

“Did you practice saying that?”

“Just a bit.”

She quirked her eyebrows. “Well, I forgive you just the same.”

“Really?” he said. “That’s it? I’m sorry and I’m forgiven within a minute?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

This had turned out so much better than he’d expected.

She added, “I had this conversation in my head a hundred times and you know, not once did it play out this way.”

“Glad I can keep you on your toes,” he said, nearly ecstatic with relief that she didn’t hate him.

“What I mean to say is that I forgave you months ago.”

He took a large breath of relief.

“So we’re cool?” he asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, patting his knee. “I’m getting a new diary. If you even look at it, I’ll turn you into a goat.”

“Fair enough.”

“Now I want to dance more. Play more music, if you please, Mr. Potter.”

He picked up his wand and waved it at the jukebox, which returned to the Celestina Warbeck song.

As he stood up and grabbed her hand, he added, “I never told anyone anything you wrote. Just so you know.”

“You better not have,” she said, gracefully climbing to her feet. “But I never thought you would.”

\--

James spent the next few days in a glorious mood. The secret he’d been keeping for months was out in the open and _she didn’t hate him_. He still couldn’t get over that. He’d been ready to have to deal with an angry Head Girl for weeks, and she hadn’t got angry even for a second. At least not to his face.

On the other hand this threw his whole perspective of his summer, and his relationship with Lily. Part of him wanted to be angry with her, because she’d known and hadn’t told him and he’d been agonizing unnecessarily for months because of what he’d done, but that didn’t seem entirely fair. On the upside, obviously she’d trusted him at least a bit for months.

At her request, he somewhat reluctantly threw his copy of the diary into the common room fire. He didn’t intend to write in it anymore, but he had wanted a record of their conversations. Still, she’d asked for him to do it and he didn’t feel he was in a position to refuse her. He’d flipped through the first few entries before she asked, though, and in retrospect it was fairly obvious to him that she’d known.

He felt closer to her than ever, and smiled stupidly throughout his classes, even when he managed to mess up Sirius’ nose in Transfiguration.

At dinner one night Helena Hodge sat next to Peter, as she’d taken to doing in the past week or so, and James couldn’t even be bothered by her presence. He noticed them holding hands under the table. If Sirius had been there, and not in the Hospital Wing having his nose readjusted, he would have laughed at them very obviously under his breath.

After they’d finished, he and Peter made their way to the Hospital Wing to visit Sirius with his nose and Remus with his furry problem.

On the staircase to the second floor, he told Peter, “I want to apologize.”

“For what?” Peter asked.

“For being a bit of a shit about Helena.”

Peter thought on this for a moment. “You’re not as bad as Sirius,” he said.

“No, definitely not,” James admitted. “But I know I haven’t exactly been supportive of you being with her.”

Peter didn’t seem to want to agree, but they both knew it was true.

“Point is,” James went on, “I’m sorry. If you really fancy her that much, and you’re not bothered that she cheated on you with a pervert like Terry Heaney, then good on you.”

Peter looked at him warily. “You’re not taking the mickey?”

“I’m really not,” James said, and he wasn’t. “I can’t promise anything on Sirius’ behalf, but I will try to be nicer to her, yeah?”

“Thanks, James.”

“So, tell me more about her.”

Peter indulged James by giving him the quick and dirty version of her life story. And it definitely was dirty. She’d been with more blokes than James had realized. Still, that was fine, so long as Peter didn’t mind. Peter fancied her and James was his mate and that was the end of it.

\--

Late in the week, McGonagall sent missives to James and Lily, instructing them to meet in her office.

“I’m not permitted to go into specifics,” she told them, seated behind her desk as usual, “but suffice it to say that when you two have taken your N.E.W.T.s, Dumbledore has secured posts for you within a less-than-public organization.”

“Excellent!” James said. “Which one?”

“She can’t tell us, you—madman,” Lily said. James suspected she had been about to use a much harsher insult.

McGonagall shot him an exasperated look. “Ms. Evans is correct. I would provide you with more information were I in a position to do so. For now, please trust that your abilities will be well-placed to achieve the ambitions we discussed in your career sessions.”

Knowing for certain that they both wanted to do the same things with their lives—in the short-term, anyway—made James fancy Lily all the more. She always seemed to be on his mind, and he loved how often he got to talk to her. She’d even partnered him during Potions one day, much to Sirius’ chagrin.

Even though they were definitely friends now, friends who weren’t both keeping a large secret from the other, James couldn’t help thinking that maybe his other ambition would come true. She did seem to fancy him, at least somewhat, and he’d much rather be her boyfriend than her mate.

He’d thought, maybe, that once he’d told her he would feel comfortable asking her out again. Merlin knew he’d asked her that question plenty of times before. But there were several others barriers. For one, he didn’t want Sirius to treat her like he did Helena Hodge. Even though Lily was clearly a much better choice than Helena, James knew Sirius would take James relationship with her harder than he had Peter’s with Helena.

“Do you hate Lily?” James asked him one night, while Remus and Peter were in the bathroom washing glue out of their hair after Polish Pirate Poker.

“Hate is a strong word,” Sirius mused, casting a spell to repair a tear in his bed hangings. “I reserve that for individuals like, oh, Snape.”

“But you don’t like her,” James prompted.

“Well, I certainly don’t _fancy_ her.”

“Sirius.”

“I’m surprised you have to ask,” he said. “I think I’ve always made my feelings perfectly clear.”

James went back to Summoning the feathers from his pillows, which were scattered around the room. “I wish you didn’t feel that way.”

“What’s it to you? It’s not like she’s your girlfriend.”

“No, but she could be.”

Sirius gave him a skeptical look. “Just because you’re getting on all right now doesn’t mean she fancies you.”

“Well,” James said, going a bit pink, “I think she does. A bit.”

Sirius laughed. “You’re mental.”

“I’m not a lunatic. Not in this, anyway.”

“You’ve always been a lunatic when it comes to her,” said Sirius. He bent down to pick his deck of cards off the ground and stored them in his nightstand.

“You’re seeing something that’s not there.”

“But things are different between us now. You don’t see it, I think, but they really are.” James didn’t know what to tell Sirius to convince him of this fact, short of explaining the whole diary shenanigan.

“And they’ll be back to the way they used to be as soon as she finds out you cheated on Isobel,” Sirius said.

James swore.

Sirius smirked at him, and it drove James mad that he did, but Sirius was right. Lily probably didn’t know about Isobel because the Hufflepuffs, loyal as they were, hadn’t spread it around, and Lily wasn’t close friends with anyone who would know.

There was a chance someone had told her, but even if she did know, he still felt like he had to disclose what he’d done. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he did.

“Let’s say, hypothetically,” he told Sirius, putting away his own deck of cards, “that she found out and either didn’t care—”

“Unlikely.”

“—or that she, I dunno, decided to look past it.”

Sirius sat down on his bed, bouncing a bit. “In those very improbably situations, would I try to get along with her? Is that what you’re asking?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

Sirius looked at James for a moment before asking, “Do you see me trying to get along with Helena Hodge?”

“No, but that’s Peter,” said James, hoping he didn’t sound like he was pleading. “And also Helena Hodge is a cow who hates us.”

“And Lily hates me,” Sirius said, as though that settled it.

“She doesn’t, and she likes Remus and Peter, so it wouldn’t be like Helena at all.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t dislike me? If not then she needs to work on her communication skills.”

“She dislikes you because you dislike her,” James argued. “If one of you could just get over disliking the other I think things would work themselves out.”

“You’re awfully optimistic that she fancies you. I don’t think she’s one to put up with your shenanigans.”

“She got high on Alipotsy with me.” He gave Sirius a triumphant smile. “I think that says plenty about her tolerance of my shenanigans.”

“You showed her Alipotsy?” Sirius asked, annoyed. “That was a Marauder secret.”

“She needed it,” James said. “I don’t know if you noticed that she lost her parents and her best friend in the last six months.”

“She should move on with her life. Good riddance to having no family.”

James could tell he was getting nowhere. He climbed onto his own bed and gripped his bed hangings. Drawing them shut, he told Sirius, “Now you’re just being deliberately obtuse. Let me know when you grow up again.”

\--

During his rounds with Lily, he found himself distracted and thinking of his argument with Sirius. Maybe Lily should know, or maybe Sirius was trying to sabotage James. Then he realized that if he didn’t tell Lily, and he somehow got her to go out with him, that Sirius might take it upon himself to tell Lily about James’ sordid past. That seemed like the least ideal way for her to find out.

As they headed down into the dungeon, he told her, “It occurs to me that I know a lot of your secrets, but you don’t know many of mine.”

She gave him a strange look. “Are you offering some up?”

“Well, I dunno. I just think that it might not be fair.”

“You want to tell me things because you think it’s unfair that I’ve volunteered some to you.”

“And I haven’t told you very many. Except the biggest one I had, but that turned out not to be a secret after all.”

She thought about this for a moment. “So what would you like to confess?”

He didn’t want to start out with Isobel right away, so he told her, “I’ve got an Invisibility Cloak.”

She looked suitably impressed. “I did not know that, but now you know I have to ask you if I can use it sometime.”

“Of course! We can, er-” he wanted to say go to Hogsmeade but that sounded too much like him asking her out, “--the kitchens again. Only in the middle of the night.”

“All right, so you’ve an Invisibility Cloak. That’s not that big of a secret.”

“It’s a treasured family heirloom – I don’t go talking about it to just anyone,” said James, not at all eager to move on but not knowing what else to say about the topic.

“Regale me with another secret, Potter,” she said, shoving him playfully.

“This one is a bit bigger and, uh, it doesn’t reflect all that well on me.” He rubbed his hair.

“I can’t imagine you have many that do.”

“Oy,” he said, not really all that hurt. If he had done something well, he’d never been one to hide it. “Well, okay, I was dating Isobel Marks for about six months last year.”

“I remember. Seventh-year Hufflepuff?”

“That’s the one.” James swallowed. “Well, she really fancied me and, uh, was quite the kisser.”

“Unfortunately I did figure that out based on how many times prefects caught you.”

“I liked her but I wasn’t… I wasn’t serious about it, and she was.”

Lily looked confused. “Didn’t she finish with you?”

“Yes,” he said in a low voice, “but only because I cheated on her.”

She did seem surprised to hear that. James hated seeing that, but he told himself it was better than the alternative.

“I’m not proud of it,” he added quickly. “I didn’t—it didn’t seem like cheating because I didn’t really care about her, if that makes sense.”

“But she was your girlfriend.”

“Yeah.”

They wove around the dungeons, passing by the Slytherin common room.

“Who was the other woman?”

“Er, Wendy Wilde.”

She nodded in realization. “Is that what started the inner-Hufflepuff war?”

“Maybe,” James said. He honestly didn’t know. “I think there were underlying, preexisting tensions.”

“From what?”

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word, “Wendy _may_ have done this to multiple Hufflepuff girls. I can’t verify the rumors.”

“Oh. I see.”

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and he didn’t know what to expect her to say. He wasn’t looking for forgiveness, after all; not from her, anyway. He just wanted her to know.

Then he remembered he’d forgotten to mention the most crucial fact.

“Also, you have to realize that I was fucking high off my mind on Alipotsy when it happened.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” she said sharply.

“No, of course not, but… if I’d been in my right mind, I wouldn’t have done it. I cared about Isobel but—I dunno. Not so much under Alipotsy, apparently.”

“Was Wendy high, too?”

“No. Just me.”

After a few minutes’ silence, during which they finished walking through the dungeons, Lily said, “I didn’t realize Wendy Wilde was such a bitch.”

“I didn’t either,” said James. “And you should know that I properly apologized to Isobel, but she’s in Argentina now and didn’t really say she forgave me, but I know she doesn’t have to and, well, yeah.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she said.

They shared an awkward moment, where neither seemed sure of what to say.

“So that’s it for secrets for now,” he said finally.

They traipsed up to the fourth floor, passing by a tapestry of a knight James had always liked.

“I know you have at least one more,” she said.

“I do,” he said, not sure which one she was thinking of. He’d debated showing her his Animagus form, but that was Moony’s secret, too, and James wasn’t going to bring that up.

She slowed to a halt outside an empty classroom, and James stopped beside her. She turned to him and said, very seriously, “I’m going to ask you a question, James, and I want an honest answer. “

“All right….”

“You were a complete arse to Isobel.”

“I know,” he said without hesitation. “I am completely aware.”

“If you want me to never bring it up again and not be constantly thinking what a prick you are, for that and the diary scheme,” she said, “you’ll have to tell me your middle name.”

That had not been quite the price for neutrality that James had expected.

“You know my middle name,” he tried.

“No, your real one.”

“Seriously,” James asked flatly. “That’s what you want to know, of all the things you could ask me.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not fair at all!”

“I don’t care.”

If it came down to choosing between humiliation and knowing that she would never officially forgive him, he would gladly take the former. After a minute, he gave in.

“Fine.”

“Good,” she said brightly. “What is it?”

He looked over his shoulders and whispered in a low voice, “You _promise,_ absolutely _swear_ , you won’t tell anyone. Anyone at all! And especially not my mates.”

“I do.”

“Fine.”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting.

“Oddjob,” James muttered.

“What was that?”

“Odd. Job.”

“What the hell sort of a name is that?” she asked, starting to laugh.

“A bloody awful one, I know!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Where on earth did your mother pick that one from?”

He gave her an appraising glance. “I don’t want to say.”

“Oh, please! Tell me.”

“No. That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

“I’ll send an owl to your mother.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I certainly will.”

“Merlin, you will, won’t you? Just let it go! I told you what you asked and that’s it.”

“I can’t let it go,” she said simply. “It’s too funny and I need to know why. I mean, I’d heard your mother was a lunatic, but honestly.”

“Fine.” James checked again that no one was nearby. “He’s a villain in a book that she read while she was pregnant.”

“Which book?”

He began walking again and said, “Let’s just say my Christian name is also from it and it was later made into a film.”

That took Lily a minute to put together, but sadly, in James’ opinion, she did reach the correct conclusion. “Oh. OH! She didn’t!”

“She did,” James said mournfully.

“Wait, I don’t remember who Oddjob is.”

James sighed. “The one with the deadly hat.”

She had to stop and lean against the wall to fight a fit of giggles, but James was not amused.

“Shut it,” he said.

When she finally caught her breath, she said, “I’m going to tell everyone.”

“You promised!”

“I did, didn’t I.” She scowled a bit. “But your middle name is _Oddjob_.”

“No!”

“Fine.”

Every few minutes during the rest of the trip up to the common room, she’d start laughing again. Each time, James stood still, arms crossed. When they finally reached the portrait, he reminded her of her promise.

“ _Nothing_ ,” he said. “No hints or any indication that my middle name is not Lancelot.”

“Why did you pick such a stupid and obviously fake middle name?”

“I chose it when I was eight, for your information, and besides, it’s an excellent name.”

“Of course it is,” she said condescendingly. “For an eight year old.”

“Shut up,” James muttered.

“Good night, Oddjob,” she whispered.

“Sod off,” he said, and ducked through the portrait hole.

\--

Although he’d been annoyed when she laughed at his real middle name—and he felt quite sure she would taunt him with that name for years to come—he was ecstatic that she didn’t hate him for cheating on Isobel. He’d told her about the two worst things he’d done as an adult and she hadn’t even threatened to hex him.

That was all the encouragement he needed to move on the final step he realized he needed to overcome: helping Sirius and Lily get along. Unlike Peter, he wasn’t interested in bringing Lily around his mates if Sirius was going to make rude comments the whole time.

“Padfoot,” he said one evening in the library. “What would it take to get you to not be so annoyed by Lily’s presence?”

“Is this about you dating her again?” Sirius asked, focused on a Runes translation. “Because I maintain my assertion that she’ll never agree to it.”

“Don’t be so sure,” James said smugly. “I told her about the business with Isobel and she got over it.”

Sirius jerked his head up. “You did not.”

“I did.”

“She didn’t hex you six ways to Sunday?”

“Not even close,” James said. “She did make me tell her something I didn’t want to tell her.”

“And what’s that?”

“Er, you don’t know this bit of information she requested.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at James. “You told her something I don’t know about you and don’t even know I don’t know about?”

James ran that sentence through his head again before replying, “Yes.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“What?”

“You’re not even dating her and she already knows things about you that I don’t.”

“You know way more about me than she does,” James said. “The thing I told her is really minor. It’s a one-word fact.”

“Tell me,” Sirius demanded.

“No,” James said, taken aback a bit. “It’s really stupid and I’d never told anyone before. She said I had to tell her or she wouldn’t, well, get over the Isobel business and, well, this other thing.”

“So she emotionally blackmailed you?”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” James said. “It was harmless. And I don’t think she really would have still been angry with me if I hadn’t told her.”

“So why did you tell her?”

“Well, because I wanted to, a bit.”

“And you don’t want to tell me.”

“I made her promise not to tell anyone and I believe she wouldn’t. You would give me shit about this for the rest of my life.”

“So you trust her more than me.”

“No, stop being an insecure bastard. I can tell her _because_ she’s not my best mate.”

“But Peter and Remus don’t know.”

“No.”

“I see.”

Sirius started to pack his belongings away but James grabbed his arm, trying to stop him.

“I’m going to ask her out,” James said. “I need you to be okay with this.”

“Will you not do it if I ask you not to?” Sirius challenged.

“Pretty much.”

Sirius moved his hands from his bag. “Really, though?”

“Really. Have you seen what it’s done to Peter to have a girlfriend none of us like?”

“Obviously.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I can’t blame you,” Sirius said, much more cheerful now that he thought he’d got his way.

“I won’t ask her out if you’re going to be a raging prick every time I bring her near you.”

“Yes, got that.”

“But, Sirius, think about this. I think I might love Lily Evans,” James said very quietly. “What kind of a best mate are you if you deliberately try to keep me from having a shot at getting her to love me back?”

“You don’t love her,” Sirius said dismissively.

“I do, though.”

“Not really.”

“Yes, _really_. She’s amazing and I know you don’t see it but there it is.”

Sirius looked at him as though he were a stranger.

“Well, fuck, James,” he said. “That’s just not on.”

“I’m sorry it’s inconvenient for you who I fall in love with,” James snapped.

“It’s not that, it’s—”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said. “I mean, Peter is dating Helena, and that’s all right because I can’t see him staying in that relationship for years to come.”

“But me and Lily?”

“Fuck, don’t make me say it, all right?”

“So you’ll try to get along with her if she says yes?”

“If she’s mad enough to say yes, yeah, I will.”

“Thanks, Padfoot. You’ll still always be my best mate.”

“I’d better be. And _I’ll_ hex you six ways to Sunday if I’m not the bloody best man at your wedding.”

“It’s a deal,” said James, smiling.

He hadn’t actually needed to be in the library, but he’d figured at least there Sirius couldn’t get too rowdy without getting himself into trouble. Mission accomplished, he packed up his belongings and headed back to the dormitory.

\--

Emboldened by Sirius’ blessing, James had nothing holding him back from asking Lily out other than his own cowardice. What if she said no? Would she think he was a complete idiot for thinking that she might fancy him back just a bit? What if he ruined their friendship by asking her out? He’d asked her out so many times over the past two years. She might think it was another joke.

He did feel a bit silly about all the fuss he was making over something he had done loads of times already, but he wanted this to be the last time he asked her. He swore to himself that if she said no, that would be the end of it, as awful as the prospect sounded. Besides, she’d been almost flirtatious with him lately, and taken James’ past errors in stride. Obviously she liked him, and he was fairly sure she fancied him, at least a little.

The only question left was when and how to ask her. He didn’t think rounds were particularly romantic, but he didn’t want to make it too special so she felt pressured. Although part of him did want that, he told it to shut up. He would make an honest, fair effort, and if she said no, then that was well and fine and he would be utterly crushed but would live on. If she could live through losing her parents and best mate, he could suffer through a simple rejection. And having to see her every day for the next eight months. And work with her closely. And maybe after that doing whatever Dumbledore wanted them to do. All right, so he really hoped she’d say yes.

He decided to invite her over to his dormitory to listen to the jukebox. He figured that was innocuous, and she seemed happy enough when she arrived, setting the jukebox on his nightstand with a smile.

“I should get some new songs on the next Hogsmeade visit,” she said, fiddling with the volume. “Do you think Shrinking this will affect its functionality?”

“It worked for me. Just don’t try that on Alipotsy,” he said, shuddering at the memory.

“Noted.” She grinned. “Have anything in particular you wanted to listen to?”

“Not really. Whatever you like.”

She mulled over her decision for a bit, and ended up putting on some song about a girl with the mousy hair as he sat down on his bed.

“Not quite dancing music, but you don’t seem in the mood anyway,” she said, sitting down next to him and lying back, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

“Really? I suppose not,” he admitted. “I’m feeling…pensive.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Shut it.”

She laughed. “You’re too sensitive.”

“Am not.”

“And so defensive.”

He thought about reaching over and tickling her, but that seemed rather intimate, too much so for what he wanted to discuss.

“How are you?” he asked.

She smiled tersely.

“You are pensive tonight.”

“I’m only an occasional liar.”

She tapped her fingers on the bed. “Oh, you know me. I’ve been better.”

“Naturally.”

“Am I only getting one or two word answers from you tonight?”

“Sorry,” he said, bashful. “I’ve got things on my mind.”

“Anything worth sharing?”

“Well, yes.”

“Are you planning to share using multisyllabic words?”

“I have an addendum to our previous conversation,” he said.

“I knew you had a better vocabulary than that,” she teased, sitting up. “Which conversation?”

“About what happened with Wendy and Isobel.”

She grinned. “Are you sure you want me to think on that some more? I could still change my mind about how I feel about that.”

“I don’t really want you to think about it, no, but there is a part I haven’t told you. I mean, I didn’t see this part at first either. Remus and Sirius and Peter all did.”

“That you’re a lunatic?” she offered.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But that’s not it. It’s that—I never really fancied Isobel, right?”

“I don’t know why. She’s lovely.”

“She is. But…I fancy someone else. And I have for a long time.”

Her smile fell.

James’ heart dropped into his stomach, but he’d said he’d do it and this would be the last time and he followed through on his plans, so he gulped and went for it.

“I like you, Lily. A lot. Even when I was dating Isobel, I couldn’t admit it but I really wanted to be with you.” He couldn’t read her expression, but he continued anyway. “I know I was an idiot with the diary thing but you know it was only with the best of intentions, and it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

Her lack of response was agonizing.

“I know I’ve asked you this a lot, but I’ve never meant it before as much as I do now, so I have to ask one last time.”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Lily, will you go to Hogsmeade with me? On, you know, a date?” He wanted to smack himself for adding that last bit – she wasn’t an idiot.

And neither was he, at least not at the moment. He’d never seen her look at him so kindly before, and he knew it didn’t bode well for him.

She grasped his hand tightly. “Please understand that I mean this in the best way possible,” she said, “but no.”

He’d always thought heartbroken was an overdramatic word, but he couldn’t believe how tight and empty his chest felt.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” he said, twisting his hand out of her grip. “Obviously.”

“Not obviously,” she said, earnestly. “James, I do really, really fancy you.”

He froze for a second, then looked her in the eye. “You did just say no, though, right? I’m not mad?”

“I did,” she said softly.

“Okay. Well. Right.”

Clearly she was lying or something because this made no sense and James’ adrenaline was coursing through his body and he just needed to get out of there, out of this awful situation.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as though saying it enough times would make the conversation come anywhere close to bearable.

He stood up. “I’m just going to go hide in the Forbidden Forest and not come out until N.E.W.T.s, then.”

“I want to say yes,” she pleaded. “But I can’t.”

“You can!” he said, whirling on her. “I don’t know what else to do, all right? I thought I’d done everything right so that we could do this and you seem on board, with your hand holding and teasing and why? Why not?”

“Because I can’t risk everything on one person.”

“I’m not asking you to!”

“You don’t mean to, but you are and, well, this is partially your own fault.”

“Because, what, I’ve been too nice? I’ve become too responsible?”

“No, you idiot,” she said, a trace of fondness in her voice. “Because you pulled your stupid scheme and it worked and now we’re friends, yes? And that’s great because, because I did need a friend and you were there and I’m glad of it.”

He wanted to rip down walls in frustration. “I’m still not seeing the connection.”

“Don’t interrupt me and maybe you will.”

He glared but waited.

She took a deep breath and clasped her hands in her lap. “It’s like this,” she began. “You asked how I am and I’m okay now, really I am, but I’m not… I’m not me again. Not yet. And I won’t be for a while, I don’t think. So for now you’re one of the only people I trust—and I do trust you—and just think what happens to me if we date and then something else happens and we’re not dating, and then not only are we stuck working together for months, I—I don’t know how I would do, then. Because you’ve got your mates and your parents and your, well, life, and I have… not all that. And I don’t mean to make myself out as some tragic person, like I won’t get along if that happens, because I will, but I won’t… I don’t know how okay I’ll really be. I wish I could’ve written this to you, so it’d be better, but we’re not doing that anymore, not ever, which is my choice, I know, so…. So, no, James. I’m sorry.”

“It’s never going to happen,” he said, his voice raw. “That’s what you’re saying.”

She looked up at him sharply. “That’s not at all what I’m saying! What I’m saying is, not right now, all right? I can’t right now, I can’t not have you there at all.”

“When, then?” he demanded.

“I don’t know exactly, do I?”

He’d irritated her. Good, he thought.

“So I’m just supposed to sit around waiting, am I?” he said.

“Oh, don’t play the martyr.”

“I’m not, I’m trying to understand.”

“Let me make it clear,” she said, trying again to placate him. “What you want is for us to be romantically involved. What I want is, well, that, but later. In a few months, maybe, when I’ve had a chance to… I dunno, exactly, just… adjust. I mean, we’ve only been friends a couple of months. I’m not willing to risk so much right now.”

The truth was, James thought she was being perfectly logical. It all made sense now that she’d explained it, but it still hurt deeply to hear it.

“So around Christmas, maybe.”

“Don’t pin it down like that,” she said desperately. “I don’t want to get to Christmas and have to have this awful, awful conversation all over again. I don’t know how I’ll feel in a few months—presumably better than I do now—but maybe. Or maybe not until Easter, or N.E.W.T.s.”

“Or ever.”

“You’re being overdramatic.”

“It’s a possibility, though, isn’t it?” he asked, feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.

“Technically, yes, but don’t….”

He didn’t think it was possible, but now he felt even more exposed than the moment after her initial rejection.

“I don’t want to wait forever,” she continued. “I want to now but I’ve thought about this and thought about this and it’s the only sensible thing to do, even if it hurts me, too, it’s better than the alternative.”

“I also don’t want to wait forever and…it’s not fair. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not exactly pleased either!”

He wanted to shout, “So say yes!” but that seemed futile. Instead, he said, “We’re waiting, then. Until you say so.”

“Well, when you put it like that… yes.”

“We go on as we have been.”

“Yes.”

Even though she was truly saying later, not no, it certainly didn’t feel that way. For the first time in months he was imagining a future where she wasn’t in it and he hated it.

She swallowed, and said tightly, “I don’t…if you start getting on with someone else and change your mind, I’ll understand.”

He didn’t understand immediately, but he cottoned on soon enough. “Who?” he laughed. “Who else could I possibly be interested in?”

“How should I know?” she said, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t feel obligated to stick around and wait for me to be sane again.”

“You’re plenty sane now,” he argued.

“You know what I mean.”

“Thanks ever so much for your permission to fancy other girls.”

“Now you’re just being rude.”

“I am n--I am. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

He let his hands fall helplessly to his sides. “There really isn’t anyone else,” he told her.

“Don’t be melodramatic.”

“I’m not.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but she refrained. “This isn’t a promise of anything other than a reconsideration later. You might change your mind and I won’t hold it against you.”

He didn’t say anything. This was it, then. He’d asked and she’d said no—well, later, which was worse because she’d left him, of all the terrible things she could have offered, a shred of hope. He hated her in that moment, for torturing him with it, but it didn’t last.

“I think you’re wonderful, James, truly. An occasional lunatic, but a wonderful one.”

She reached out to grasp his hand, but he pulled away.

“I need to be—somewhere else right now,” he said.

“Of course. But I’ll see you tonight at the prefect meeting?”

He gave a jerk of a nod and left, not sure where he was headed and not in the mood to care.


	11. Epilogue

And so he waited.

After the humiliating experience of explaining to Sirius what had happened—very briefly covered, although that didn’t stop Sirius from all but crowing in triumph—things were weird, between him and Lily. For a while. They still talked and worked and studied together, but now every accidental touch caused an awkward pause. He’d still catch himself staring at her at odd moments, and she’d see and he still felt like he had to hide it, to pretend like he didn’t fancy her, because he didn’t want to pressure her.

But that faded, slowly, and they did form a new balance. She spent less time with him, and more with Mary and anyone else she could stand to be around. He even caught her laughing at something Helena Hodge said. She wasn’t just his anymore, and at first that burned, that she had others she was telling some of her secrets to, but he repressed it enough until it went away because he didn’t have any right to feel that way. She spoke up in class and wrote letters to Emily’s parents and hummed Beatles songs when she thought no one could hear.

The rest of his life continued as normal. The Quidditch season began strongly. He never once mounted his broom at practice without wishing Emily were still around, but even that immediate pang began to hurt less with each passing week. Snape was still an arse but they never spoke. Helena Hodge inexplicably stuck with Peter, and James still didn’t really care for her but at least now he could speak to her like a person. Sirius banged his bookbag into his brother in the corridor every chance he got, but that was family business, and he too avoided Snape like the plague. He and Snape still glared at each other, and James didn’t expect that peace to last forever, but for now was good enough.

By the time winter rolled around and the Marauders had to end the first half of the Polish Pirate Poker season **,** James no longer felt strange deducting points or assigning detention. It was simply part of his everyday life, much like feeding his cat or Hogsmeade visits or full moons.

As the Christmas holidays drew nearer, James told himself that he wasn’t going to ask Lily about it, that he absolutely mustn’t. And in a way, not talking about it was comforting. What if she’d changed her mind and was no longer interested? At least if he didn’t bring it up he could fantasize about coming back from Christmas and meeting her under mistletoe and, well, from there things took a direction inappropriate to share with others.

But he tried so very hard to not think about that fantasy because he didn’t want to expect it, not after she’d made it so patently clear that Christmas was not the final deadline. She seemed to be doing well, but he didn’t know for sure since she didn’t get into that level of emotional depth with him, not since he’d burned the diary. They were still close but not like they’d been over the summer, and James had learned to live with that.

He did manage the courage to ask her to visit him after Christmas. The Woods were taking her in and initially James thought of inviting her to stay with him for a while, but thought better of it.

“Algernon will pine for me,” she said pensively. “I should come over to keep him company, and keep your mum from poisoning him again, if only for a day.”

To his surprise, she hugged him when they parted ways at Kings Cross. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“Er, thank _you_ ,” he said, unsure.

She laughed and pecked him on the cheek. He felt the blood rush to his face.

“Happy Christmas,” he told her, scooping up Algernon with his free hand to keep him warm. He pulled his trunk over to his parents and a very put-out looking Sirius.

“Is that her?” his mum asked when she hugged him.

“Yeah,” he said, angling Algernon away from the hug.

“She has nice teeth.”

“Er, yes, Mum.”

“I like girl with good dental hygiene.”

“It’s why I married you,” said his dad.

“And don’t I know it,” she said.

James smiled, glad to be going home.

\--

On New Year’s Day, Lily came for dinner. James had been fretting all morning, over nothing really. He’d tidied up his room, kept his mother away from the kitchen while his dad cooked, and bribed Sirius into good behavior by promising him he’d install an invisibility button on his motorbike.

Lily arrived right on time, snowflakes dusting her hair and a smile on her face. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” James said, unable to keep himself from beaming. He’d missed her, even though it hadn’t been long. “Come in.”

She charmed his parents, as he’d known she would. Even Sirius didn’t seem to mind her so much, going so far as to offer her more mulled wine after dinner. They sat around the fire in the living room while James’ parents reminisced about their first Christmas together (Odette had tried to cook and had managed to burn down the kitchen with purple flames, of all things). Stuffed with pudding and wine, James nestled into his armchair with Algernon on his lap and fell quiet while Sirius argued with Odette about fire prevention spells. Lily caught his eye and smiled at him, and he returned it.

Not long after, his mum leapt from her seat. “The wood! We need more wood!”

“For the fire! Of course,” said Oscar, quickly getting to his feet. “We’re nearly out and the fire will stop.”

Sirius stared at them. “There’s plenty of wood.”

“No, there really isn’t. Come on, you’re helping,” said Odette, grabbing Sirius by the arm and hauling him to his feet.

“I don’t trust you to know what’s what about fire,” he said.

“I’ll show you! Out back.”

“In the garden,” Oscar added.

James thought he heard Sirius mutter something about Potter madness as his mum dragged him toward the kitchen.

“Are your parents really that bad at acting?” Lily asked once they’d gone.

“Er, yes,” said James, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“They’re a little mad, aren’t they?”

“Almost definitely.”

“I see where you get it from.”

“Oy,” James said, without malice.

“They’re nice, even if they are mad.”

“Very true.”

“And she hasn’t killed Algernon yet, so there’s something.”

“She does care for him, only she’s not very good at it.”

“Agreed.”

James didn’t know what else to add, and Lily didn’t seem to either. She absently picked at some lint on the sofa, staring at the floor.

“How are you?” he asked, quite seriously.

She lifted her gaze from the floor. “I’m well,” she said after a moment. “It’s difficult, not being home for Christmas, but I’m glad I’m staying with the Woods and not at my parents’ house. I spent enough time there wallowing during the summer.”

James nodded. Had he encouraged her to stay at her parents’ house then? He couldn’t remember.

“It hasn’t been an easy Christmas,” she continued. “Then again, I’m looking forward to this being the worst Christmas of my life. I think at no point in my life will I have as poor a Christmas as this one, which I find immensely comforting.”

“I suppose.”

She tilted her head. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

“Not much to say,” he said, shrugging.

“There’s a first.” She hadn’t teased him like this before, gentle yet assured. He liked it.

“What’s there to say?” He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m well, Lily.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not as pleased with life as I could be, but I’m pleased enough.”

“Was that a subtle hint?”

“If you’d like it to be,” James said, hoping he came across as much suaver than he felt.

She rested her elbow on the edge of the sofa and propped her chin on her hand. “And if I’d like it to be?”

“Far be it from me to force you to interpret my words in a certain manner,” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He could feel his pulse in his fingers.

She looked away, seeming suddenly fragile. “Are you still open to continuing the discussion we had a few months ago?”

He said carefully, but trying to hide as much, “I’m always open to such discussions, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s been more than two months.”

“I have a calendar, too, you know.”

“You jest, but I mean it. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“Of course I want to talk about it, but only if it’s going to end the way I want it to.”

“I think the chances of that are much higher than they were two months ago,” she said lightly.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

Heart racing, he said, “Well, I’m not asking this time. I told myself that I was going to ask you one last time, and I did, and you know I’m a man of my word.”

This was fun, now that they both knew where it was going.

“Boy of your word, at best.”

“You wound me.”

“So you won’t ask?”

“It was the last time. I can’t go back on that.”

“You’re going to make me ask?”

“Well, if you don’t this conversation certainly isn’t going to go the way I hoped, and in that case I don’t want to have it at all.”

“Fine, you win. Oddjob.”

“Low, Lily Evans. Low.”

“James Oddjob Potter, will you go to Hogsmeade with me? On a date?”

“I might have to think about it,” he said. “That wasn’t very convincing.”

She laughed, once, then stood up and crossed the room to lean over him, her hands on the armrests on either side of him. If her hair hadn’t been tied back in a bun, it would’ve been falling in his face. Algernon leapt out of his lap and darted into the kitchen.

He leaned back in the chair and shot her a one-sided grin.

“Well, all right. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Or yes. Definitely. Whenever’s convenient for you.”

“Just kiss him!” came Odette’s muffled voice through the front window.

James cringed, but Lily laughed.

“Good enough for me,” she said, leaning down even further so that their faces were only inches apart.

James couldn’t believe he was about to snog Lily in front of his Mum and Dad and, oh Merlin, Sirius, but he wasn’t about to derail things either.

She closed the distance between them, and James’ heart soared. The angle was awkward, but it was still the best first kiss he’d ever had.

“How’s tomorrow for a first date?” he breathed when she pulled back. “Or now. I’m completely free.”

“Oh!” she cried, staggering back.

James frowned, but then he saw the second most beautiful sight he’d ever encountered, there at his feet.

“He finally did it,” Lily said.

“Algernon,” James said, nearly in tears. “You are the best cat in the world and I love you so very much.” He gingerly reached out and removed the bacon sandwich half-wrapped in wax paper that Algernon had brought him.

“It’s a miracle,” he added, barely able to look at the sandwich.

“I kiss you and you’re astounded by a sandwich,” Lily said flatly.

He took a large bite of sandwich and sighed happily. “This is the best day of my life.”

Admittedly not the best thing to say, he realized belatedly. He could see why Lily took offense and smacked him lightly upside the head.

“I meant you!” he said, gently resting the sandwich on the side table.

“I know, but I never imagined I’d have to compete with a sandwich. You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

Yes, James decided, she was definitely never going to let him forget about his sandwich moment, but that was perfectly fine since she’d be sticking around to do so.

He even let her have half of the sandwich, and if that wasn’t love, James didn’t know what was.


End file.
